Haunted
by Frayed One
Summary: Book Two of a larger piece entitled "Varric Tethras' One True Epic": with the Blight and Civil War lurking on the horizon, Elissa must unite Ferelden while attempting to navigate the treacherous waters of a budding romance with her fellow Warden.
1. Chapter 1: Leave Love Bleeding

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly imagine. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I attempt to use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront that I will divert from the traditional tale._

_When reading these stories, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric Tethras (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N: **This story is Book Two of a larger piece. The first portion (Star Crossed) is already up in its entirety. While the first story dealt with the pre-Blight relationship between Elissa Cousland and Nathaniel Howe, this one will focus mainly on Elissa's experiences during the Blight and her friendship/relationship with Alistair. Nathaniel will appear, but he is not the main character of this piece.  
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_Muse Music: Hemorrhage by Fuel.  
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_Edits posted 2/6/2013.  
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_Thanks to my readers, writers and followers and to the wonderful __**artemiskat **without whom this project would not be possible._ _  
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_Happy Reading!  
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_-Frayed One_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter One: Leave Love Bleeding<strong>_

There was a moment, just a moment, where she thought it had all been a dream. That she had risen for the day and her anxiety over leaving had combined with her desire to see him again and manifested itself into a horrible nightmare.

But it was only a moment. The illusion shattered when she heard Fergus speaking in an angry whisper to Oriana just outside the door to her room.

"I'll _kill_ him, I swear it!" Fergus' heavy footfalls echoed down the hall where he paced in frustration. "I will rip his head off with my bare hands!"

"Hush, dear." Oriana halted his steps with the press of a gentle hand against his arm. "You must calm your temper for Elissa's sake. Your sister will need you. A broken heart does not mend easily."

"I shall try, love. But I make no promises." Fergus sighed, and though he was making an effort Elissa could hear the fury seething underneath.

"To try is all that I ask of you." Oriana hugged him and laid a tender kiss on his cheek. "And that you go down to see Nan. Perhaps return with some tea and cookies? I would like to see if I can get your sister to eat something when she wakes."

Fergus reluctantly agreed, and Elissa sighed with relief, listening to the click of the door when Oriana pressed it shut behind him.

"It's alright, he's gone." The lovely Antivan sat at the foot of Elissa's bed and offered a sympathetic smile. "There's no need to continue your ruse, remarkable as it was."

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't avoid him, but I just… I don't want to talk about it right now and I know he will press me for answers I may not even have, or want to give to him." Elissa ran restless fingers through her hair.

"It is perfectly understandable." Oriana reached out to pat her hand before taking hold of it. "A broken heart pains us like no other injury, something Fergus cannot understand because his has never suffered such a tragedy."

"Will it ever stop hurting?" Elissa saw in the older woman's eyes the very understanding she could not find in her brother's. "It feels like I'm dying. No, worse. Worse than death. I'd rather be dead than feel this way."

"It will take time, but as the days pass it will hurt less and less until one day, you will think back on it and feel nothing at all."

"Nothing at all… We will be nothing at all?" Elissa stuttered out the words, her vision blurring as tears sprang heavy into her eyes at the thought that everything she had felt for Nathaniel, all her hopes and dreams, could simply cease to be. "I don't think I can do this. I-I cannot bear it! It's too much, it hurts too badly…"

She felt herself losing control; ripping apart at the seams. She collapsed against Oriana's lap and sobbed, gasping for air in between broken words that pleaded to the Maker for some sort of relief, some end to the sorrow that threatened to consume her.

Oriana stroked her hair, whispering words of reassurance and humming the lullabies she used to lull Oren to sleep in the wake of his nightmares. Eventually Elissa felt herself calming and relaxing into sleep.

* * *

><p>It took almost two weeks for Elissa to voluntarily leave her room after collapsing to the stone floor at her brother's feet upon reading Nathaniel's letter. For him to have ended things in such a way, just a handful of cold words on a torn scrap of parchment, he might as well have simply cut out her heart. She'd have preferred it that way, truth be told.<p>

She vowed to tell no one of her ill-fated plans to go to him the very evening she'd received his last letter, destroying it when her fingers found the wax of its seal carefully concealed in her pocket.

She thanked the Maker that she had received it before she'd been foolish enough to follow through on her plan to seek passage to the Free Marches. As devastated as she had been by the heartless, distant manner in which he had chosen to end their relationship, she knew that physically seeing him in the arms of another would have been worse.

Despite Oriana's attempts to quell his temper, Fergus had been livid with anger, and insisted that he would go to their father and demand he provide passage to the Free Marches where he intended to 'beat the heartless bastard into paste.'

Though Elissa appreciated his loyalty to her, she pleaded with him not to go and pretended that she was feeling better, offering proof when she slipped the Howe signet ring off her finger and deposited it unceremoniously into the back of a drawer.

"Please, brother, let it go." She turned back to him with a sigh, pressing the drawer closed by leaning against it.

"I don't know why you defend him after all he has done." Fergus kicked at the corner of her bureau in frustration. "He does not deserve your loyalty, Elissa. Clearly he never did."

"Don't say that!" Elissa snapped, drawing herself up to her full height so she could glare straight into her brother's eyes. "What we had… I-it may be over now, but it _was_ real. I refuse to believe it was nothing… that I was nothing."

"Even though he treats you like you are nothing?" Fergus didn't even flinch in the face of her anger. He had enough of his own to fuel them both. "Maker, 'Lissa, wake up! I know you loved him, but he _never_ loved you. Love doesn't do this. I would never do _this_ to Oriana!"

"You take that back, Fergus Cousland!" She shoved him so hard he nearly lost his footing and went down. "He _did_ love me! He did!"

"Have you lost your mind?" Fergus scrambled to regain his balance, reaching over to still his sister's violent swings by pinning her arms against her torso. "I'm only trying to help you!"

"Help? You call _this_ help?" She twisted out of his grasp when the tears started to flow once again. "I don't want it! I don't want you here! I just want to be left alone. Get out! Get out now or I swear to Andraste herself I will punch you right in your stupid nose!"

Fergus opened his mouth to reply, but immediately closed it again, and made a hasty retreat to the door upon seeing her balled fist drawing back to take a swing.

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><p>It took another week for Elissa to work up the nerve to venture out again, doing so mainly because both her mother and father had started to believe the experience had left her with permanent damage. After the third visit from the family healer she decided it was either emerge on her own or be forcefully dragged off to a physician.<p>

She ran into Fergus outside the kitchens and mustered up her brightest smile, requesting that he come to spar with her in the training yard as she felt rusty after all her time away. He agreed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and accepting her stoic facade as truth.

It took some time but he eventually let the subject of Nathaniel drop completely, watching his sister throw herself wholeheartedly into her studies, her training, and the daily activities of his son Oren and wife Oriana. He believed she had found a way to refocus and move past her broken heart.

In truth, she returned to her dresser almost immediately after chasing Fergus from her room and scrambled to dig Nathaniel's ring back out of the drawer she'd chucked it in. She strung it on a leather cord and slid it inside the front of her tunic, as much to hide it from the eyes of those who would not understand as to feel the comfort of its weight directly against her skin.

In truth she might as well have been trying to learn how to breathe underwater, to walk with no legs, to speak with no tongue.

Living a life without him seemed impossible. She didn't know how she'd ever done it before… and yet, she must have. There _had_ been a time when she had lived her life without Nathaniel Howe.

Minutes turned into hours, hours into days, days into months, and eventually she taught herself to bear the aching wound he had left in her heart without faltering beneath the weight of it, accepting that it would never fully heal.


	2. Chapter 2: Ashes to Ashes

_**Disclaimer: **__Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_Thanks again to my My Lady Beta, **artemiskat**! Couldn't have done it without you :)_

_Drew inspiration for this chapter from Breathe Into Me by Red._

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Two: Ashes to Ashes<strong>_

When the Teyrn called Elissa to the throne room, she fully expected to be asked to accompany him and her brother into battle. She had been rather confused when she had not been asked to make preparations along with the other soldiers already. After all, with years of strict training under her belt, she was as formidable in a fight as Fergus was.

She bustled into the room to speak with him, and was unpleasantly surprised to find herself in the company of Arl Howe. She had managed to avoid him with one excuse or another since her debacle of a relationship with Nathaniel had ended, and so she was certain the forced smile she plastered on her face in his presence wasn't fooling anyone.

"You remember my youngest I'm sure," the Teyrn said, smiling happily at her.

"Indeed, I see she's become a lovely young woman." the Arl replied, his eyes lingering longer than they should have on the bare skin exposed at her throat and legs by the cut of her armor. "Nice to see you again, my dear."

"Is your family here, Arl Howe?" Elissa asked, and though she knew better than to think Nathaniel would be present, she hoped perhaps Delilah had chosen to accompany him.

"Oh no, I left them in Amaranthine. They should be far away from the fighting in the South." the Arl chuckled, though the laughter did not reach his eyes. "Except for Nathaniel of course, he is still in the Free Marches, though I'm sure you are aware of that. Thomas does ask about you though, perhaps I should bring him with me next time I come…"

"And what could you **possibly** hope to accomplish by doing that?" she snapped quickly, her eyes narrowing at the Arl as she remembered Thomas' assertions that she had been promised to him by the very man who now stood in front of her.

"So glib too… she's just like her mother when she talks like that." Arl Howe chuckled coldly, covering the malice in his eyes with a simpering smile directed at the Teyrn.

"There's no telling my fierce girl anything these days," her father sighed, shaking his head lightly, trying to ease the tension between the two. "Maker bless her heart."

"Quite the firebrand, I'm certain." Howe said, pensively. "One to watch…"

"Was I brought here for a reason?" Elissa asked, turning to her father and trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, as the Arl looked her over again.

"Since your brother is leading our forces south and I'm going with the Arl, I'm leaving you in charge of the castle." the Teyrn said, smiling at her affectionately as though she would be pleased with the news.

"What?" she spat incredulously. "I'm being left behind? Why can't I go into battle with you and Fergus?"

"I'm certain you would more than prove yourself in battle, my darling, but I'm simply not willing to deal with your mother should you go off to war," the Teyrn insisted, shifting his feet restlessly under his daughter's furious eyes. "She's already twisted into knots about Fergus and me going, she'd kill me if I let you accompany us."

"That's not fair! I'm at least as skilled as Fergus and I actually **want** to go!" Elissa insisted, not willing to simply let the issue die. "Let Fergus stay here and assuage her fears…"

"You'll have your chance, my darling, and sooner than I'd like in all likelihood," the Teyrn replied, sighing deeply in frustration. "This is no needless task I ask of you; it is a great responsibility that I entrust to your hands. When your brother and I go, only a token force will remain here and you must use them and your wits to keep peace in the region while I am gone."

Elissa grimaced at the thought of being doomed to courtly responsibilities while her father and brother were off adventuring, but was quickly distracted from her need to argue when another man, whom she did not recognize, entered the room.

"And there is also Duncan to attend to," the Teyrn explained, relief clearly evident in his features as the new arrival had distracted his daughter from her current focus.

"It is an honor to be a guest within your hall, Teyrn Cousland." Duncan said, with a slow bow.

His appearance left little question that he was a warrior. Battle hardened features were hard to miss particularly under the eyes of someone, like Elissa, who wanted so desperately to join in the war effort.

His armor was like nothing she had ever seen before, and she puzzled over the intricate patterns of it, trying to place him within his proper rank, as the other men discussed his arrival.

"Your lordship, you didn't mention that a Grey Warden would be present." Arl Howe sneered, barely able to conceal the disdain in his words.

"Duncan only recently arrived; and unannounced," the Teyrn explained, eyeing the Arl in confusion as he offered a jovial handshake to The Warden. "Is there a problem?"

"Certainly not, but a guest of this stature demands certain… protocol," the Arl explained, blanching under the other men's inquisitive stares. "I am at a disadvantage."

"It's true, we rarely have the pleasure of seeing one in person." the Teyrn laughed, turning his attention once again to his daughter and seeing the curiosity in her eyes. "Brother Aldus explained the Wardens to you I hope?"

"Of course!" Elissa gasped, barely able to contain her excitement at being this close to a legend. "They're an order of great warriors."

"They are indeed the very heroes who saved us from the Blight," the Teyrn replied, smiling at her childlike fascination. It was good to see the fire she'd had since birth burning in her eyes again, especially when it had so nearly been doused completely a few short months ago. "Duncan is here recruiting before joining us and his fellow Wardens in the south. I believe he has his eye on our Ser Gilmore."

"Rory!" Elissa chirped, thrilled that her childhood friend was being offered such an amazing opportunity. "He will be perfect! And he will be thrilled!"

"If I might be so bold." Duncan spoke up, holding Elissa's eyes for a moment before turning his attention back to her father "I would also suggest that your daughter is an excellent candidate."

She felt her pulse speed at the idea that an order so mythical would want to count her among their ranks.

"An honor though that may be, this is my daughter we are talking about," the Teyrn said, and she could feel her hopes shattering once again.

"Is there a reason I shouldn't join them?" Elissa asked, her temper rising as it seemed her father was intent on cutting her off no matter what direction she sought escape. "It seems to me that I could only honor myself and our family by being counted among such a prestigious rank."

"You did just finish saying that the Grey Wardens are heroes, old friend." Arl Howe interjected; causing Elissa to toss a confused glance in his direction as though he was the last person she ever expected to offer her support.

"I have not so many children that I would readily send them all off to war," the Teyrn concluded, turning back to Duncan, "unless you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription…"

_Do it! Please do it!_ Elissa thought, offering silent prayers to the Maker that this mysterious man, this Warden, would offer her passage out of this world she'd been trapped in for so long.

"No, definitely not." Duncan relented, raising his hands in mock surrender. "While we need as many good recruits as possible, I have no intentions of pressing the issue."

Elissa felt her hopes crumbling at her feet. She was indeed destined for a life spent within castle walls monitoring the daily activities of others, the very life she had fought so hard for so long to avoid.

Despair threatened to take her again, and she lost herself to it for a moment before her father's hand at her elbow brought her back into focus.

"Can you see to Duncan's needs while we are gone?" he asked, smiling to hide his concern as he had no doubt seen the darkness that had returned to her eyes.

"Don't strain my abilities or anything." Elissa groused in return, crossing her arms in frustration.

"And don't strain my patience!" the Teyrn snapped, shaking his head to calm his temper. "Now, be a good lass and go to find your brother for me. Relay my instructions that he is to lead the troops to Ostagar ahead of me."

"As you wish, **my lord**," she hissed, offering a mocking curtsey before disappearing out the door and stomping in frustration down the long hallway.

* * *

><p>Elissa cursed under her breath, barely taking notice of anything around her as she barreled through the halls in search of her brother. She clipped a corner as she turned too quickly and would likely have fallen to the floor had she not been caught in the strong arms of the young knight who stood chuckling lightly in front of her.<p>

"I'm not sure whether to thank you for making it so easy to find you, or chastise you for almost trampling me in the process." Rory laughed, squeezing her shoulders lightly before moving back to create an appropriate distance between them.

"I'm sorry, Rory." Elissa replied, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and… stumbled a bit somewhere along the line – you know how clumsy my feet can be when I'm angry."

"Better than I'd like to at times." he chuckled, smiling his infectious smile. "I've been looking for you for awhile, but your mother told me the Teyrn had summoned you. I didn't want to interrupt."

"Good thing you didn't, considering the company he's keeping…" she complained, crossing her arms over her chest and fighting off a shiver as she thought about the Arl's earlier inspection of her.

"Yeah… I saw the Arl's men arriving…" Rory acknowledged, shuffling uncomfortably.

He knew Elissa did not care for the man, and though he did not blame her, particularly in light of her past with the Arl's eldest son, protocol dictated that he treat the man with the respect his station deserved; and so he simply avoided the subject.

"I fear your hound has the kitchens in an uproar, again," he said, changing subjects quickly before things got more uncomfortable. "Nan is threatening to leave."

"Nan is just blowing off steam." Elissa laughed, blowing out a long puff of air and rolling her eyes. "She's **always** like that."

Fergus had given her the mabari as a pup a few weeks after Nathaniel had been shipped out of their lives. He had bonded to her instantly, and the two had been inseparable ever since, well, except for when he caused trouble in Nan's kitchens.

"Your mother disagrees." Rory replied, though he chuckled in response to her petulance. "She's insisting you collect him immediately. He only listens to you, anyone else risks having an arm bitten off."

"He knows better than to hurt anyone, **especially** you," she assured him, smiling softly when she thought of the fondness the animal had instantly developed for her friend.

"I'm not willing to test that!" he laughed, holding up his hands. "You're quite lucky to have your own warhound, you know. Smart enough not to talk, my father used to say. Of course, that means he's easily bored. Nan swears he confounds her just to amuse himself. At any rate, your mother insisted I accompany you until the matter is settled…"

"Follow me about pestering me until I follow her orders is more like it." Elissa complained, sighing heavily – but turning toward the kitchens anyway. "Well… you coming?"

"Just follow the yelling." Rory laughed, falling into pace beside her. "When Nan's unhappy she makes sure everyone knows it."

"Indeed she does…" she chuckled in response, before getting serious again. "Hey, I meant to ask you, why aren't you marching with our men?"

"Anxious to get rid of me?" he replied, raising an eyebrow to glance at her as she started to reply before realizing he was joking. "I would be, were it my choice. Your Father decided I should remain with the complement of guards at the castle. I had hoped it's because this Grey Warden wishes to meet with me."

"Do you know much about the Grey Wardens?" Elissa inquired; her curiosity peaked as the legendary heroes were mentioned again.

"Only what everyone hears." Rory replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I never expected to actually **see** one, so few are here in Ferelden."

"So what happens if you are recruited? Do they ship you off elsewhere?" she asked, staring off into nothing as she pondered all the wonderful foreign lands the two of them might see together should they both happen to catch the Warden's fancy.

"I only know that once you become a Grey Warden, your old life is over," he said, his face growing serious as though to impress upon her this was not necessarily one of the grand tales she'd been so fond of as a child. "There is no going back."

"Sometimes that doesn't seem like such a bad thing…" Elissa mused, more to herself than to anyone else.

"Sam, I know he…" Rory started, coming to a standstill in the hall and trying to catch her eyes.

They had never spoken of what ultimately transpired between her and Nathaniel, though she was certain he had gotten more than enough details from Fergus' angry ranting.

Rory had offered his shoulder to her in her darkest hour, in whatever capacity she had desired it, as he always had, and she had been grateful for it. It had been nice to have one person who did not ask her how she was every five minutes, who did not reassure her that everything would be okay and insist she would learn to forget the young man whom she had loved with all her heart.

She had no intention of changing that arrangement now, and stopped his words with a wave of her hand, putting them back into motion toward the kitchens.

"Do you think the Wardens are really as skilled as the legends say?" she queried, linking her hands behind her back thoughtfully.

"I hear they only recruit the most skilled fighters and tacticians they can find," he replied, mimicking her posture. "It would be disappointing to find out that wasn't true."

"Have you ever seen darkspawn?" Elissa asked, meeting his eyes.

"Never." Rory answered, shaking his head. "You hear about them attacking homesteads and travellers but… I thought that was just a story they told children to keep them in bed at night."

Elissa nodded thoughtfully, remembering that hearing tales of darkspawn had only made her curious, not afraid - something that seemed, in retrospect, abnormal.

"What if the Grey Warden tries to recruit you?" he asked, cautiously. "Have you thought about it?"

"I wish he would recruit me," she laughed, smiling at him.

"I knew you'd say that." Rory laughed in response, clapping her shoulder companionably. "Though I imagine even the Grey Wardens would be unlikely to risk your Father's wrath should they attempt to steal his only daughter out from under him."

"Duncan already broached the subject." Elissa admitted, shaking her head. "It went about as well as you'd imagine."

"I take great pride in serving your father," he continued; worry lines creasing his forehead momentarily. "Still, if I had the opportunity to join the Grey Wardens, I wouldn't hesitate."

"Nor would I." she said, squeezing his arm lightly. "It would be odd not to have you here…"

"It would be odd not to be here, I imagine." Rory replied, reaching over to cover her hand with his own and squeezing it in response. "But serving the Wardens is the highest service one can render."

They moved on in companionable silence until they reached a point where they could hear Nan screeching at the kitchen staff to do something about the dog. Elissa grimaced at Rory, before taking a deep breath and moving into the kitchen to face Nan's wrath.

* * *

><p>"You! And <strong>you<strong>!" Nan yelled, pointing first to Rory and then to Elissa "Your bloody mongrel keeps getting into my larder! That beast should be put down!"

"He's not a mongrel! He's a pure-blood mabari!" Elissa yelled in response, glaring angrily at Rory and rubbing at her arm where he elbowed her in response to her snarky words.

"A blight wolf is what he is!" Nan insisted, her fury rising as she paced in front of the door. "How am I supposed to work like this? That's it! I quit! Inform the Teyrna. I'll go cook at some nice estate in the Bannorn."

"Nan, please." Rory pleaded, glaring angrily at Elissa who only rolled her eyes in response to the woman's dramatic threats. "We'll get the dog. Calm down!"

"Just get him gone!" Nan growled, pointing at the door and stepping out of their way. "I've enough to worry about with a castle full of hungry soldiers."

The pair stepped past her and into the larder, eyes widening as they saw the bags of flour and various other cooking supplies that had been torn open and strewn about the room.

"Look at that mess…" Rory moaned, shaking his head. "How did he even get in here?"

"What a smart boy you are, Gladius!" Elissa insisted, kneeling down to scratch the hound heartily around his ears. "Oh, yes, yes you are!"

"Oh, encourage the hound, why don't you!" Rory grumbled, huffing loudly. "No wonder he keeps giving Nan fits! Though… he does seem like he's trying to tell us something… I wonder wha…"

"Shh… do you hear that?" Elissa asked, reaching for her daggers just in time to swat away the first of the swarm of giant rats that suddenly began pouring from every direction.

Between Rory, herself, and her hound the rat threat was quickly ended – leaving the larder in an even worse state now that multiple bloody rat corpses now littered the floor on top of the mess Gladius had already managed to make.

"Giant rats?" Rory quipped, incredulously, sheathing his broadsword. "It's like the start of every bad adventure tale my grandfather used to tell. Gladius must have chased them in through their holes. Looks like he wasn't raiding the larder after all."

"It certainly looks that way." Elissa admitted, scratching at Gladius' broad head before wiping away the blood on her daggers with a nearby rag and anchoring them back at her shoulders. "For something so tiny they sure can bleed… a lot…"

"They had to be from the Korcari Wilds." Rory insisted, leaning down to inspect one before tossing it into the empty linen sack that Elissa had procured for corpse removal. "Best not to tell Nan. She's upset enough as it is."

Elissa nodded, helping to collect the remaining corpses and kicking most of the spilled flour over on top of the blood to help with absorption, finally depositing the bag in a barrel meant for disposal just outside the door.

"Well, seeing as how you've now got your mabari well in hand, I'll be on my way." Rory said, smiling at her. "I'm to prepare for the arrival of more of the Arl's men."

"Have fun with **that.**" Elissa replied, grimacing at the thought as she watched him nod to Nan and move out of the kitchens and back to his duties.

"There he is, brazen as you please." Nan griped, looking the hound over as Elissa wiped at some blood that still stained her chest piece. "Licking his chops after helping himself to the roast, no doubt."

"Actually, he was defending your larder from rats, **big** ones." Elissa snapped, making a vague gesture with her hands to indicate size before scratching at Gladius' head again. "You should be thanking him, not yelling at him."

"Well, I expect those filthy things are dead then?" Nan snapped, refusing to back down.

"My faithful warhound has made sure it's safe, dear lady." Elissa replied, with an exaggerated and obviously sarcastic bow.

"Hmph!" Nan continued, crossing her arms and glaring at her and then the dog. "I bet that dog led those rats in there to begin with."

Gladius whined in response, hanging his head in shame.

"Oh, don't even start with the sad eyes!" Nan admonished, wagging a finger at him. "I'm immune to your so-called charms!"

He whined again, slinking back behind Elissa's legs.

"Here then." Nan sighed, uncrossing her arms and reaching for a couple of bits of something on the table beside her. "Take these pork bits, and don't say that Nan never gives you anything. Bloody dog…"

"You're welcome…" Elissa murmured, walking out the door with Gladius trailing behind her, listening to Nan's continued ranting fading into the distance behind them.

* * *

><p>She shook her head again, looking down to realize that she and the hound were still covered in blood and rat parts, and shrugging when she realized she could do nothing about it as she had already delayed her father's instructions long enough.<p>

Turning the corner toward the family rooms, Elissa found herself stumbling into her mother's circle of visitors, which was the last place she wanted to be.

_Bloody hell…_ she thought, noticing that not only was her mother with one of the noble ladies, but she had apparently brought along her son – likely in the hopes of pressuring Elissa, once again, to match herself with him.

"Ah, here is my lovely daughter," the Teyrna said, covering her disapproving assessment of her daughter's state of dress with a smile. "I take it by the presence of that troublesome hound and all this… is that blood… ugh… really? I take it the situation in the kitchens has been handled?"

"Nan's head exploded and Gladius ate the kitchen staff." Elissa responded snarkily, mirroring an equally false smile back at her mother. "Forgive me if I didn't have a chance to clean their bits off me."

"Well, at least one of us will have had a decent dinner," the Teyrna offered, glaring at her for a moment. "Perhaps your hound has seen fit to leave something I can feed to my guests… you remember Lady Landra, Bann Loren's wife?"

"I think we last met at your mother's spring salon." Lady Landra offered, barely concealing her disgust as she looked over Elissa's dishevelled appearance.

"Yes, as I recall you were quite drunk." Elissa replied, crossing her arms and leaning back on one leg slightly, meeting the woman's eyes in challenge.

"I am **so** proud of my pup's mastery of tact and diplomacy." the Teyrna sighed, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

"Well, it was a lovely salon, from what I remember…" the lady admitted, twittering laughter nervously and backing down from Elissa's glare.

"Which wouldn't be much, I'd imagine, considering we had to pour you into the carriage afterwards…" her son offered in defence, turning his smile toward Elissa as though she should appreciate his intervention.

"You remember my son, Dairren," Lady Landra said, patting her son's arm with pride. "He's not married either."

"Don't listen to her." Dairren said, rolling his eyes and reaching to take Elissa's hand and, once he assured himself there was no blood, laying a light kiss on the knuckles. "It's good to see you again, my lady. You're looking as beautiful as ever."

"Ugh… go soak your head." Elissa mumbled, just barely under her breath, honestly not caring whether anyone heard the comment.

She remembered Dairren quite well. He'd stopped his adamant pursuit of her attentions briefly, after Nathaniel had been announced as her escort at her sixteenth birthday celebration years ago, but had picked it back up with renewed vigor upon hearing their relationship had come to an end; and now she couldn't seem to make it clear enough how uninterested she was in him, or any man for that matter.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, leaning closer for clarification.

"Very nice to see you," she smiled, cursing tersely under her breath and removing her hand from his as tactfully as possible.

"Her diplomatic skills will earn her a post in Orlais, just you wait" the Teyrna insisted, laughing uncomfortably to cover her social faux pas.

"This is my lady-in-waiting, Iona." Lady Landra continued, bringing Elissa's attention for the first time to the lovely elven girl standing at her side. "Do say something dear."

"It is a great pleasure, my lady." Iona said, blushing lightly when Elissa met her eyes; reading something in them that peaked her curiosity. "You are as beautiful as your mother describes."

"You would think that would make it easier to make a match for her, not more difficult," the Teyrna grumbled, ignoring the knowing smile Elissa offered to the elf that made her blush deepen further the way she had ignored the tendency her only daughter had shown toward female companions following her break up with the Arl's son.

"Perhaps your daughter simply has a mind of her own, your ladyship." Dairren offered, continuing to defend her choices as though he was accumulating points. "You should be proud."

"Proud doesn't get me any more grandchildren…" the Teyrna began.

"I can handle my own affairs, mother." Elissa snapped, pulling her eyes away from the girl and glaring at her mother. "You only cause yourself distress when you try to force yourself into them in this way."

"Yes, you've certainly done a fantastic job of handling them thus far…" the Teyrna started, and Elissa began to argue ferociously enough that Lady Landra excused herself to rest for dinner, while Dairren and Iona made a quick escape to the study.

* * *

><p>They argued a few moments longer before Elissa finally gave up and hung her head in exasperation. Though she knew that her mother loved her, she also knew that she would never be the daughter she truly wanted her to be.<p>

"You should go say goodbye to Fergus while you have the chance," her mother offered in concession.

"Did you know there's a Grey Warden here?" Elissa asked, staring back down the hall in the direction of the throne room, choosing to ignore her mother's directive and press her agenda again instead.

"Yes, your father mentioned that," the Teyrna admitted, her eyes narrowing in response to her daughter's query. "You haven't gotten it into your head that you want to be recruited?"

"The darkspawn have returned, mother." Elissa said in answer, turning back to face her fully. "Wardens are needed."

"And **you** are needed here. There is plenty to occupy your time," her mother insisted, waving off her statement easily. "I don't need you off chasing danger like your brother."

"Why can't I go with Father and Fergus?" she asked, frustrated further by her mother's casual dismissal of her wishes.

"I know it's difficult to stay in the castle and watch others ride off," the Teyrna sighed, knowing how much her daughter hated this part of her life, "but we must see to our duties first; you understand that, don't you?"

"I could make a difference out there, here I'm just wasting my time **and** my talents." Elissa insisted, knowing she was right whether her mother chose to acknowledge the fact or not.

"You can make a difference here!" her mother insisted, getting angry again. "Trust me, you'll have your chance for excitement soon enough."

"I have a bad feeling about this, mother." Elissa admitted as she abandoned the topic for a second time, her brow furrowed in concentration as her thoughts drifted once again to the Arl. "I can't really explain it… something just feels… **wrong**."

"Your father and brother are marching off to fight Maker-knows-what and all the assurances in the world won't comfort me," the Teyrna agreed, and Elissa felt slightly comforted though she still didn't see the threat her daughter saw in Rendon Howe. "Everything feels wrong. But it wouldn't help for us to take up arms and follow. Fergus and your father have their duty, and we have ours."

"Yes, yes… standing about in **pretty** frocks and worrying our **pretty** heads until they return…" Elissa grumbled, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but where she stood in that moment "Have you seen Fergus?"

"If he's not with his men, probably upstairs with Oriana…" her mother replied, trying to delve back into their conversation before Elissa could flee from it.

"I should go…" she said, already starting to walk away.

"I love you, my darling girl," the Teyrna said, reaching out to catch her hand before she could fully disappear. "You know that, don't you?"

"I'm hardly a girl any longer." Elissa sighed, squeezing her hand slightly.

"Indeed. I turned around for a moment and you've grown into a fine woman in your own right. But that doesn't mean I have to like it," her mother continued, her eyes growing sad for a moment "I saw you broken once, to see that kind of pain and to know there is nothing you can do to repair it… is an awful thing. I know none of this has turned out how you wanted, but you should know your father and I only want what's best for you. Now go, do what you must, I will see you soon."

* * *

><p>Teyrna Eleanor Cousland watched her daughter's hasty retreat into the back recesses of the castle, wishing that she hadn't seen the sadness creeping back into her eyes at the mention of her lost love.<p>

"Oh, my darling, will you ever recover?" she pondered, shaking her head before moving toward the throne room to collect her husband.

* * *

><p>Elissa found her foul mood lifting quickly in the presence of her brother and his family. There had been many days when their easy acceptance of her presence in their lives was the only thing that pulled her through. Today was no exception.<p>

As she approached the outside of the large family quarters they shared, she could hear Oren begging his father to return with a "sward" from his travels, and though Oriana admonished Fergus for instilling such things in their very young son's impressionable mind, Elissa knew she did not care whether her brother returned with an entire armory for the boy; so long as he returned.

"And here's my little sister to see me off" Fergus laughed, his smile broadening as she walked through the door.

"Should I wait outside?" Elissa asked jokingly, watching Fergus wrap his wife in a warm embrace and kiss her thoroughly.

"Stay, I'd like to say farewell." Fergus replied, stepping away from Oriana for a moment. "After all, we don't know how long it shall be before we see each other again, I should get in all the brotherly torment I can manage else I don't know how I shall sustain myself while I am away."

"Did you know there was a Grey Warden in the castle?" Elissa asked, pushing her way out of the headlock Fergus was trying to force her into.

"Really?" Oren quipped, jumping from foot to foot in excitement. "Was he riding a griffon?"

"Unfortunately not." Elissa replied with a laugh. "Griffons are only in tales now, even the Wardens must find more menial ways of transportation."

"I'd heard there was a Warden about!" Fergus answered, patting Oren on the head before turning back to his sister. "Did he say why he'd come?"

"He's recruiting..." Elissa smiled, a fire coming into her eyes that Fergus had not seen in a long time.

"Oh?" Fergus smiled, thrilled to see that something had peaked his sister's interest again and hoping that it would finally move her past the last remnants debris that remained from her failed relationship with the Arl's son. "If I were a Grey Warden, little sister, I'd have my eye on **you**… not that Father would ever allow it."

"Yes, both Mother **and** Father have already as much as quashed that idea for me…" Elissa muttered, frowning heavily and kicking lightly at the floor with the worn toe of her boot. "I wish I could go with you."

"I wish you could come!" Fergus replied, completely sincere. He would miss her, and would worry for her mood in his absence. Her recovery from Nathaniel's brutal destruction was still incomplete and there were days the darkness of it nearly retook her. "It'll be tiring killing all those darkspawn by myself!"

"You'll be missed, brother." Elissa said, her voice softening as the tears threatened to come.

"If it's any consolation, I'm sure I'll freeze in the southern rain and be completely jealous of you up here all warm and safe." Fergus laughed, reaching over to squeeze her shoulder in an attempt to keep the mood light.

"Yes, your projected misery makes all the worry and envy just drop right away, whatever would I do without your wisdom, dear brother?" Elissa laughed, rolling her eyes. "At any rate, I bring a message. Father wants you to leave without him. The Arl's men are delayed."

"Again!" Fergus groused, his brow creasing in frustration as he shared a worried glare with his sister – something did not seem right. "You'd think his men were walking backward!"

"Travel with caution, Fergus." Elissa whispered, leaning in close and wrapping him in a hug to hide her words from his wife and son rather than provide needless worry. "Something about this does not sit right with me, it leaves me disquiet and I do not know why."

He pulled away, his eyes questioning her own, but couldn't get the words out before the Teyrn and Teyrna entered the room to say their own goodbyes.

"I would hope, dear boy, that you planned to wait for us before taking your leave?" the Teyrn jested, walking up to take each of his children by their shoulders.

"Be well, my son." the Teyrna said, wiping a lone tear from her eye. "I will pray for your safety every day you are gone."

"A good shield would be better…" Elissa grumbled under her breath, but Fergus caught it and burst into laughter, resulting in a light smack to the head for each of them from their mother.

The conversation quickly devolved into a good-natured fistfight between Elissa and her brother mixed with inappropriate remarks about wenches and ale. The Teyrna and Oriana both pretended to be put out; but the love in their eyes was easy to read. This was home for all of them, and they each worried that it would be the last time they would all stand together in this way.

"Enough, enough…" the Teyrn said, finally winding the festivities down. "Pup, you'll want to get an early night, you'll have much to do tomorrow."

Elissa sighed heavily, but knew he was right. She promised Oren to tell him a new dragon tale the following evening, whispering quiet promises of sword-fights and griffons even as she tossed a conspiring wink to her brother. Before she left, she pulled her father to the side; making one final attempt at pushing for her own wishes of not being left behind.

"About this Grey Warden…. Duncan…" she said, leaning in to try and keep her mother out of this round of the looping conversation.

"Ah, I was wondering how long this would take," her father sighed, rubbing at his brow a bit in frustration. "Has he asked to recruit you?"

"And if he did?" Elissa inquired, opting not to just tell him no.

"If he did, then I would have to consider it," he replied, his eyes taking on a sad quality that had not been there a moment ago. "If a Blight is truly upon us in the south, the Wardens will be needed. There is no higher calling. If it comes to that, we can talk about it when I get back. Until then, show Duncan every courtesy. He is a fine man, and a hero."

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" she asked, finally giving up on her push and turning back to the unsettling feeling she'd been fighting ever since she walked into the throne room to see Arl Howe standing there.

"Your brother and I go into battle, not an afternoon tea. Who knows what will happen to us?" the Teyrn replied honestly. "I will tell you, however, you are my darling daughter. I love you and I trust you completely to carry on the Cousland name if the worst should happen."

"Is sending all of our forces south such a good idea?" she continued, wanting her Father to admit he felt at least some of the trepidation she did at leaving them completely unguarded. "Surely we could spare more than the skeleton crew remaining, that would still provide a more than adequate amount of soldiers for the war effort. I could send word to Cailan; I am certain if I spoke with him he would allow us a few more left behind."

"When the king demands your full force, you send them, Elissa," her Father admonished. "Not sending them would be a distinctly bad idea, as would pulling Cailan's strings again just to prove you still can. If you wanted to be the woman behind the throne, you could have easily taken that position long ago, but you made different choices so now you must leave Cailan to Anora."

"Yes, Father." Elissa sighed, petulantly; it wasn't that she had any desire to make a match with Cailan, nor had she ever, she simply did not like Anora and jumped at the chance to illustrate just how easily she could influence Cailan even now.

"Don't worry yourself" her father assured, reaching over to pat her arm. "You shouldn't have any problems, but you should prepare yourself just in case."

"In case of what?" Elissa asked, thinking he had finally felt the same concerns she could not fully voice.

"Legends of the Blights tell of horrible things," her father admitted, his eyes darkening a bit at the thought. "The darkspawn once threatened many lands. If we can't hold them… you must prepare for the worst."

"That is **precisely** why I should be going with you!" Elissa insisted, arguing once again against being left behind. "It is ridiculous for me to be left here doing nothing when I could be contributing to the efforts to contain them."

"Stubborn as always," her father laughed, shaking his head. "I understand why you want to go so badly, my darling, but what you see as a reason why you **must** go – I see as the very reason you **must** stay behind. I know that you will do me proud. You've grown into a strong, sensible woman, that much is clear. I know that nothing in your life has turned out how you wanted it to, but perhaps you can consider the idea that this may be exactly what you were meant to do. To protect your family, to protect your home, to contribute to the greater good by remaining behind and running the Teyrnir."

"It just doesn't feel like this is all I'm meant to do…" Elissa said, her voice falling as her hopes died once again.

"And perhaps it's not, pup, but let us leave that discussion for another time," her father insisted, turning her in the direction of bed, and accepting the half hug she offered in response before striding out toward her own room.

"Oi!" Fergus yelled, catching her just outside his door as she moved off to her own quarters. "Aren't you too old to be getting sent to bed early?"

"Probably," she shrugged, looking at him cryptically .

"You're not pitching nearly enough of a fit… wait... you've got someone waiting for you, haven't you?" Fergus laughed, turning in a half circle and patting the wall as she shushed him. "You saucy minx! It's that elven lass that arrived with Lady Landra, isn't it? Don't try to tell me it's not, I know what direction your tastes have leaned since…"

"**Don't** say it…." Elissa hissed, slapping his arm hard enough to make him wince in pain. "And yes, Iona is likely waiting for me already if she hasn't been scared away by all the noise. We discussed our mutual... appreciation... in the study this afternoon."

"You know, all the work you did keeping me from going after Nathaniel is likely to be undone once Mother figures out he forced you to swear off men completely!" Fergus insisted, nearly consumed in laughter again.

"I haven't sworn **off** them, I simply haven't found any I'm interested in." Elissa replied, glancing back quickly to make sure her brother's laughter hadn't alerted anyone else to their conversation. "And I don't see what business it is of yours either way, ugh, go spend time with your family and leave me be."

She turned and ambled off to her room, leaving Fergus laughing riotously behind her.


	3. Chapter 3: The Birth of the Hero

_**Disclaimer: **_Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront!

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_Thanks once again to my readers (lurkers and otherwise) and to my Lady Beta __**artemiskat**__!_

_Fun factoid: In the movie in my head Nathaniel is played by Christian Kane ala Elliot in Leverage._

_Main theme music for this chapter was Already Over by Red._

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Three: The Birth of the Hero<strong>_

When I finally worked up the nerve (_after one too many ales in the corner of a dark, dusty pub – The Hanged Man to be exact_) to ask The Hero what she remembered about that last night in Highever, I remember her pinning me with her eyes (_emerald daggers that seemed to cut right into my soul_) searching for a reason she should answer rather than eviscerate me.

I don't know what she saw in me that tipped the scales toward speech over violence, but eventually she leaned back in her chair – drank deeply from her mug – and said, "I remember every second of the night I died."

I don't know if it was the empty look in her eyes; or the casual referral to herself as though she were one of the walking dead instead of the living breathing woman with whom I had forged a tenuous friendship a few years prior, but something about that moment has haunted me to this very day, and will continue to, I suspect, until the day I meet my own end.

Hearing her recount the full story aloud did nothing to make that feeling go away.

* * *

><p>She woke to the frantic barking of her mabari who stood, heckles raised, staring intently at the barred door to her bedchamber. She disentangled herself from the elven girl who shared her bed for the evening, and reached down to retrieve her under things from the floor where they'd landed in disarray among the rest of her clothing.<p>

"Ugh... does your hound always make so much noise?" Iona asked, chuckling lightly as she brushed her tousled hair from her lovely face with a smile.

"Not normally, no." Elissa replied, smiling in return as she continued to pull on her leggings and tunic, intending to investigate once she was more properly attired. "Something must be amiss for him to be this agitated."

"I thought I heard yelling or something a moment ago, but now there's nothing," Iona continued, wrapping the bed sheet around her and moving toward the door to release the latch. "I'm going to see if someone is in the hall."

"No, wait I…" Elissa started, hearing Gladius' growls become more menacing and suddenly consumed by dread as she reached for, but was unable to stop Iona from pulling the door slightly ajar.

The miniscule opening was all the men outside needed, and Elissa watched in horror as the steel of a longsword pierced her companion's belly and protruded from the space beside her spine.

The girl's eyes turned to her for a moment, her mouth moving silently, unable to produce words as blood started to run down her chin. The man who had killed her pressed further into the room, holding her shoulder just long enough to pull his blade from her body, and then watching her crumple to the floor.

He turned, intending to come for Elissa where she crouched near the foot of the bed – but Gladius quickly intervened; sinking his teeth deeply into the man's arm causing him to drop his sword. Elissa caught it as it fell; bringing it up just in time to block the blow of the second intruder as he entered the room intent on finishing the job his companion had started.

"And 'ere we always thought you dropped the Arl's son because 'e wasn't man enough to handle yah," the miscreant leered, eyeing the nearly nude woman on the floor and turning back to assess her current state of undress. "Won't 'e be interested to 'ear it was because you was more interested in the ladies?"

"Do **not** dare speak to me as though you know anything about my past, or Nathaniel," she hissed, swiping at him with her blade and easily dodging his returns until she created an opening and shoved her blade through his side, dropping him to the ground.

Gladius nudged her hand with his great head, now bloody from finishing off his own target, and she walked over to kneel at Iona's side. Her beautiful eyes were now glazed over and her chest was silent.

She was gone.

"I'm so sorry…" she said, sliding her eyelids closed with the palm of her hand and laying a soft kiss on her cheek before turning back to her armor stand quickly strapping herself back into her suit and settling her daggers into their sheaths at her back.

She peered down the short hall, which held the family quarters, and noted there were two men remaining outside the door to her mother and father's room.

"Come boy," she whispered to the mabari, sliding silently out the door intent on taking them by surprise.

They were easily dispatched, her hound's target falling almost immediately as his great jaws clamped down on the expanse of throat exposed when Elissa knocked him sprawling with a blow to the jaw. A few moments later she finished off the second man, closing her eyes for a moment as the blood from his opened jugular washed over her face.

When she opened them again, her mother stood in front of her, dressed in her own suit of armor.

"Darling! I heard fighting outside and I feared the worst! Are you hurt?" Eleanor Cousland asked, carefully looking her over for injuries considering all the blood she and her hound were covered in.

"I'm fine, it's not my blood." Elissa explained, wiping at her face to clean some of it off. "Are you alright?"

"They never got in the door, thanks to you," her mother insisted, relief flooding her face for a moment with the knowledge that both she and her daughter had somehow managed to survive the initial assault. "A scream woke me up. When I looked out, there were men in the hallway so I barred the door and retrieved my armor just in case they should make it inside."

"Look at their shields." Elissa said, kicking hard at one of them to turn his limp body over so that her mother could get a clear look. "These are Howe's men."

"Why would he attack us?" Eleanor asked, confusion etched into her features, this man had been their closest friend.

"He's clearly betrayed us, mother... waited to attack while Father's men are gone." Elissa continued, anger creeping into her voice – she should have seen this coming, a part of her had always known Rendon Howe for what he truly was. "It is the tactic of a coward."

"You don't think Howe's men were delayed… on purpose?" her mother gasped, her eyes widening as she started to follow what her daughter was already starting to string together. "That bastard! I'll cut his lying throat myself! Tell me you've seen your father? He never came to bed?"

She could see the panic creeping into her mother's face, and her heart sank with the knowledge that he was not here as she'd hoped he would be.

"We have to accept the fact that he may already be dead, mother." Elissa said, her words threatening to choke her, even though she knew it was a very real possibility.

"**No**! I won't believe that! We must find him!" Eleanor insisted, wringing her hands in anguish and closing her eyes against the possibility her daughter might be right.

"Here, take this." Elissa said, flipping one of the dead men's swords up with her foot and then handing it pommel first to her mother. "I have a feeling we're going to need it."

Her mother nodded in response, clutching the sword in anticipation as Elissa moved to open the door to the large family room that Fergus shared with his wife and son, hoping against hope they had been fortunate enough to bar the door and keep Howe's men away as her mother had.

* * *

><p>Her prayers were not answered.<p>

A nightmare lay just inside the door. Oriana lay half sprawled on the bed, her bare legs dangling over the edge where her night dress had been pushed up when Howe's men chose to violate her before ultimately ending her life. Oren was sprawled on the carpet just inside the door, his tiny broken body twisted at odd angles from having fallen hard against the floor after his throat was viciously slashed.

"No! My little Oren!" her mother shrieked, barely stifling a sob as she attempted to run into the room before being stopped when Elissa wrapped her arms around her and held her in place. "What manner of fiend murders innocents?"

"He's not even taking prisoners." Elissa noted, stroking at her mother's hair in comfort. "He means to kill all of us."

"Oh, poor Fergus," Eleanor sobbed heavily, turning to move out of the room. "I can't look at this anymore."

"Give me a moment, I have to…" Elissa began, but her mother was gone and no longer listening to her words.

She knelt down next to Oren, closing his eyes with her hand much as she had her lover's only minutes before. Stroking his cheek she bent to gather him carefully in her arms, carrying him to the bed where his mother lay and gently placing him upon it.

"Dream of slaying your dragons my darling boy," she said, kissing his forehead before turning to his mother.

She pulled Oriana's skirt back down, trying not to see the cuts and gashes lining the skin of her thighs where Howe's men had not been gentle in the taking of her, and then lifted her legs up onto the bed – moving her into a position where the unobservant eye might mistake both mother and son for sleeping.

"I never thanked you enough, sister." Elissa whispered, stroking the woman's hair with affection, and closing her glassy eyes with her shaking fingers.

She stood only a moment longer, closing her eyes against the pain, forcing away the tears that threatened to fall, and then pushed out of the room – closing the door behind her and gathering her mother from the hall; pushing them further out into the castle.

* * *

><p>Elissa didn't really remember much until her mother spoke again, the effort it took to push down the images of her sister-in-law and nephew's broken bodies and continue to fight her way past wave after wave of Howe's men consuming all that she could manage in concentration.<p>

"Can you hear the fighting?" her mother asked, laying a hand on her arm to stop her as she fought to catch her breath. "Howe's men must be everywhere…"

"Not for long…" Elissa growled in return, her eyes narrowing to slits as she strained to hear what direction they should move in next "they've presented little difficulty thus far, I see no reason why we can't dispatch the rest of them."

"Don't be foolish!" Eleanor gasped, eyes widening as she saw the blood fury burning in her daughter's eyes. "You would only throw your life away! Your father is likely at the front gates, and that's where we must go. We need only engage those we come across between here and there."

"You cannot seriously intend to walk away and **allow** Howe's men to take the castle?" she hissed in response, turning her furious eyes to her mother. "You cannot seriously intend to **let** him win!"

"Listen darling, we haven't much time," her mother sighed, taking her daughter's hand and forcing her to see reason. "If we cannot find your father, you **must** get out of here alive. Without you and Fergus, the entire Cousland line dies here, tonight. If Howe's men are inside, they must already control the castle – which means there is nothing that you and I can do to change what has already been set in motion. We must reach the servants' exit in the larder and escape, do you understand?"

"I want Howe **dead**, mother!" Elissa spat angrily, refusing to accept her mother's assertions. "I refuse to leave here while I know that monster still draws breath."

"You have to, my darling, you have to leave. You **must** survive – survive and see that justice comes to him!" Eleanor insisted, grabbing her by her shoulders and shaking her hard enough to ensure her words were registering through the fog of her hatred.

"Let's just keep going," she replied, refusing to meet her mother's eyes.

"We're getting close to the treasury. The Cousland family blade and shield lie inside. Take my key and retrieve them, they cannot fall into Howe's hands," her mother whispered urgently, turning to keep watch while her daughter stepped inside to grab the items. "The shield should go to Fergus, and you – **you** must take the blade. It should be used to sever his traitorous head!"

"It will be done." Elissa assented, her voice cold as she tossed one of her daggers aside in favor of the Cousland blade and anchored Fergus' shield at her back before moving with her mother toward the main hall.

* * *

><p>They could hear the yelling inside the main hall before they made it through the doors, the familiar tone of Rory Gilmore's voice sounding like music to Elissa's ears as he issued orders to the guardsmen he had managed to rally within the room.<p>

"Go! Man the gate! Keep those bastards out as long as you can!" he yelled, sending the men away before turning his broad smile on Elissa and her mother. "Your ladyship! My lady! You're both alive! I was certain Howe's men had gotten through!"

"Rory!" Elissa yelled, sheathing her blades and running forward to throw her arms around her friend's shoulders. "I feared the worst! I am so happy to see you alive!"

"When I realized what was happening, it was all I could do to close the gates. But they won't keep Howe's men out long…" Rory explained, allowing himself to revel in the feeling of holding her as he maintained eye contact with her mother who stood slightly behind. "If you've another way out of the castle, you must use it quickly!"

"Come with us!" Elissa said, reaching down to lace her fingers into his and starting to move away. "Another sword certainly can't hurt our progress."

"If I do that, you won't make it out before the gates fall…" he replied, watching her turn back to him when the tug of his hand relayed the message he wasn't moving.

"W-what are you saying?" Elissa asked, realization dawning in her eyes as she began to understand he intended to sacrifice himself to allow her to escape.

"Your survival is important, not mine." Rory continued, stroking at her hand with his thumb. "Now, please, go, while you have the chance!"

"No, **No**! I'll not leave you here to die!" she yelled, stepping forward, reaching up to turn his face back to hers when he tried to turn away as her tears started to fall.

"Stubborn woman, can't you make this one thing easy for me!" he plead, his own eyes welling up. "Go, just, **go**!"

For the first time in all the years she had known Rory Gilmore, Elissa could see that she would be unable to bend him to her will. He had resigned himself to the sacrifice he would make so that she could live, and nothing she said or did could change his mind.

She reached up, placing a hand on either side of his face and pulled him to her, kissing him, **really** kissing him for the first and last time – and he threw all protocol out the window and kissed her back with everything he had felt but never spoken, and in that moment she knew, without a doubt that he loved her, he always had.

"I will never forget you," she whispered, holding him close for a moment longer as Howe's men bashed angrily at the door just behind them.

She followed her mother's lead out of the main hall and further into the castle to the kitchens, stopping to look back one last time and catching Rory's eyes as he placed his back against the doors.

"Go!" he yelled, the grain of the wood starting to cave behind him.

* * *

><p>When they finally made it to the larder, stepping over Nan's bloody broken body to enter the door, they found Bryce Cousland curled on the dusty stone floor bleeding profusely.<p>

"Maker's blood, what's happening?" her mother yelped, running to his side with Elissa close behind. "You're bleeding!"

"Howe's men… found me… f-first," her father gasped, clearly pained by every syllable, "a-almost did me in… r-right t-there."

"I'll kill Howe for what he's done!" Elissa spat, leaning down to gently prod at her father's injured side… there was **so** much blood.

"He c-can't… get away with this," Bryce insisted, holding his daughter's eyes steadily, "the k-king w-will…"

His words dissolved into a tortured groan, and he coughed up a puddle of blood and tissue into the stone floor.

"Bryce!" Eleanor whimpered, stroking at his hair and turning her worried eyes to her daughter. "We must get him out of here!"

"I… I won't survive the s-standing I t-think…" her father insisted, grasping at his side and trying to catch his breath.

"Then we shall have to drag you out!" Elissa said, reaching down to try and anchor him up before his pained moans forced her to gently lower him back to the floor.

"Only… if you're w-willing to leave p-pieces of m-me behind, my d-darling…" Bryce said, a pained smile crossing his pale face, his good humor evident even when faced with his own mortality.

"This is no time for jokes!" her mother snapped, tears starting to well up as the truth of the situation began to press down upon them. "Once Howe's men break through the gates, they will find us! We **must** go!"

"S-someone… must reach Fergus…" her father said adamantly, reaching over to grip tightly to his daughter's hand, "t-tell him what's happened… you must survive…"

"I **will** survive, father, if only to cut out Howe's cowardly heart!" Elissa hissed, starting to cry but fighting the emotion back down.

"Justice w-will c-come to… Howe, the M-maker himself shall s-see to that," Bryce insisted, holding intently to Elissa's eyes, "d-do not let this m-monster destroy you with h-hatred, my darling. But you m-must g-go… I am not m-much longer f-for this w-world."

"Bryce, no!" Eleanor gasped, brokenly sobbing through the words. "The servants' passage is right here! We can flee together, find you healing magic!"

"The castle is s-surrounded, my love," her father replied, patting his wife's hand softly. "I w-will not make it."

"I'm afraid the Teyrn is correct," the Grey Warden said as he strode into the room covered in blood. "Howe's men have not yet discovered this exit, but they surround the castle. Getting out will be difficult."

"You are, Duncan, then?" her mother asked, wiping at her eyes lightly "The Grey Warden?"

"Yes, your ladyship." Duncan replied, bowing lightly. "The Teyrn and I tried to reach you sooner but were… deterred… I am happy to see you made it here unharmed."

"My daughter cut down many of Howe's men to bring me here safely," Eleanor explained, "Maker be praised she also survived the initial assault."

"I am not surprised." Duncan said, nodding his respect to the youngest Cousland who eyed him cautiously from the floor. "Everything I have heard about your daughter paints her to be quite skilled in many areas."

"Thank you for saving my father." Elissa finally uttered, still trying to read the man who stood before her, but his face remained impassive.

"I fear your thanks are premature." Duncan admitted, turning his eyes away from hers for a moment. "I doubt I have saved him."

Outside the kitchens the sounds of battle suddenly peaked, and it became apparent to all of them that the main gate had fallen.

Elissa pressed her eyes closed at the thought of Rory surrounded by Howe's men and fought back the urge to run back and take as many down as she could if only to keep him safe.

"Whatever is to be done, it had better be done now!" her mother insisted, fear blooming in her eyes. "The few men left in the main hall will not be able to hold them much longer, our time has run out."

"Duncan, I-I b-beg you… t-take my w-wife and daughter to safety," her father plead, coughing up more blood as he struggled to press the words free.

"I will, your lordship," Duncan assented, turning his eyes to Elissa for a brief moment before returning them to the Teyrn. "But, I fear I must ask for something in return."

"A-anything," Bryce replied, "t-their lives are p-priceless to me."

"I came to your castle seeking a recruit." Duncan explained, and Elissa watched understanding dawn in her father's eyes. "The darkspawn threat demands that I leave with one."

"I… I understand," her father replied, turning his sad eyes to his only daughter.

"Are you talking about me?" Elissa gasped, eyes widening in surprise.

"You fought your way to me through scores of Howe's men; I think the Maker's intention is clear." Duncan replied, holding her eyes steadily, truly impressed with her skill under such dire circumstances. "Truthfully you were always my first choice."

Elissa sat there in stunned silence. She was to be a Grey Warden...

"I will take the Teyrna and your daughter to Ostagar to tell Fergus and the King what has happened." Duncan continued, turning back to her father. "In return, your daughter will join the Grey Wardens."

"W-we have an a-accord," Bryce replied, shaking Duncan's hand and sealing Elissa's fate.

"Then I offer you a place within the Grey Wardens." Duncan said, turning his eyes back to Elissa's. "Fight with us."

"B-but my duty is to my family, I must see Arl Howe brought to justice…" Elissa insisted, trying but failing to meet her father's eyes.

"We will inform the King and he will punish Howe." Duncan replied, waving away her assertion with an armored hand. "I am sorry, but a Grey Warden's duties take precedence, even over vengeance."

"Howe t-thinks he'll use the c-chaos to … advance himself," her father said, pushing through the pain as the blood continued to lagoon beneath him. "Get word to Cailan – h-he will not f-fail to see j-justice is done. But y-you, o-our family always does o-our d-duty first. The d-darkspawn m-must be defeated. You m-must go. For y-your own s-sake and Ferelden's…"

"I will father, because you ask it of me." Elissa replied, leaning forward to kiss her father's forehead and then standing with Duncan.

"We must leave quickly." Duncan insisted, reaching a hand down to aid the Teyrna. "Howe's men are almost upon us."

"Bryce, are you sure?" her mother asked, crying openly now at the thought of leaving the love of her life behind to die on the larder floor.

"Our d-daughter will not d-die of H-howe's treachery," Bryce insisted, clutching at his wife's hand, "s-she will live, and m-make her m-mark on the world."

"Darling, go with Duncan," her mother said, pulling her hand away from Duncan's and sitting down next to her father. "You have a better chance to escape without me…"

"Eleanor…" her father began, silencing quickly under her mother's heavy glare.

"Hush, Bryce!" her mother snapped, clutching his face. "I'll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy them time, but I **won't** abandon you!"

"Mother, I won't let you do this!" Elissa yelled, trying to run to her but finding herself unable to move as Duncan dragged her out of the room and toward the servants' exit. "I've lost everyone, I **can't** lose you too… I can't… no, **no**! Mother!"

* * *

><p>"I remember flashes after that... mostly... Duncan dragging me out while I screamed, the smell of smoke and, something… flesh maybe... burning, the walls crumbling down as everything I had ever known burned to ash behind us," the Hero finished, waving the serving girl over for what must have been her tenth or eleventh ale of the night.<p>

The woman could put away spirits in a fashion that put even the most seasoned drinkers to shame.

"Is there anything you would have done differently, looking back?" I asked, hesitantly, but choosing to press my luck with the second question just in case the alcohol had left her in a sharing mood.

"Oh, I don't know," she sighed, dropping the mug hard against the table and leaning forward to run both hands through her fiery hair where it had fallen around her face. "Punched the Arl right in his great beak of a nose? Given Rory that tumble I'm certain, in retrospect, he'd always wanted? Told Oren a hundred dragon tales and curled up with him for the night? Does it matter? I can't change it now. What I **would** have done is meaningless. It cannot turn back time, it cannot bring back the dead, no matter how hard I may wish for it."

She sat a few moments longer, and we finished our ales in silence, the mood now melancholy and dreadfully dark.

I dared not ask another question, feeling lucky for every word I'd gotten out of her before she shut down and curled like a nautilus back into her shell.

She nodded at me with a broken smile, paid the barmaid for her ales and mine, and slipped out the door into the warm Kirkwall night.

* * *

><p>The whispered tales of men who never knew her would lead you to believe that she, like all Heroes I assume, had come into being via a moment of triumph, a glorious goddess of flame gifted unto the world at the hands of the Maker himself, destined to save them from the evils lurking in the world around them.<p>

The truth is not so simple, nor so pretty.

The Hero of Ferelden was birthed from darkness and flame, amid screams and blood – and forged into cold hard steel by long years of sacrifice, anguish and infinite all consuming sadness.


	4. Chapter 4: Adrift

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_Primary musical theme for chapter: Hymn for the Missing by Red_

_Thanks to all my new readers, and to my wonderful Lady Beta __**artemiskat**__. _

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Four: Adrift<strong>_

She was there in his dreams again, same as always.

He could hear her voice drifting through the wispy haze of The Fade, but she remained intangible, just beyond his reach.

Tonight, his meandering search for her became frantic. There was something in the tone of her voice, something that turned what was normally an aching desire simply to see her again, into a desperate, demanding need that tugged directly at his soul.

He jolted from sleep to a sharp rap on his door and had to work to slow his breathing and calm his racing heart. His body was drenched in sweat; the blankets twisted around him as though he had been thrashing about.

He ran his hands through his hair, turning to slide his legs off the edge of the bed and reaching for the linen pants he'd left hanging over the corner chair the night before, pulling them up over his hips and going to answer the door.

"You alright? You look wretched…" the soldier observed, his forehead creasing in concern as he took in Nathaniel's dishevelled appearance and thrust forward a letter into his hand, "Missive for ya. Looks to be from yer father."

"I'm fine, thanks," Nathaniel insisted, knowing the solder would simply let it drop, the people of the Free Marches had learned long ago how little he desired to discuss his personal life.

He took the letter, flipping it over to verify the Howe crest was indeed pressed into the wax at the back, and closing the door behind him before popping the seal and starting to read.

* * *

><p><em>Nathaniel, <em>

_It is difficult to relay this news to you, but I thought it best that you heard it from me rather than through the waves of gossip that will undoubtedly find their way to your shores._

_Bryce Cousland has revealed himself to be a traitor to the crown. He has been in communication with the Orlesians for years and intended to sell Ferelden out to the highest bidder, and likely would have succeeded were it not for the investigations carried out by Teyrn Loghain and myself. _

_I have been charged with the task of ensuring that the Cousland family is brought to justice. The penalty for high treason is death, as you well know. As of this evening all life within Castle Cousland has been snuffed out. Only Fergus Cousland managed to survive as his father sent him ahead to Ostagar before my men could secure the castle._

_I apologize, my son. I know you cared for the Cousland girl at one time. I hope that, perhaps, knowing that she and her family were such a stain upon the face of Thedas will help you to put her memory behind you once and for all._

_It is important that you remain in the Free Marches where you are safe and continue your studies. I will contact you again soon with further instructions._

_Father_

Nathaniel collapsed on the bed, his legs refusing to hold his weight any longer, as his entire body began to tremble so hard he was certain it would break apart from the force of it.

Elissa couldn't be dead. Surely he would **know**. Surely he would have felt the ties that bound them together sever completely instead of tugging at him again, flaring back into a stabbing, searing pain instead of the dull ache they had finally retreated into a month after she ended their relationship.

He reached up and ran his thumb across the smooth metal of the necklace he still wore. The chain had broken when he'd ripped it from his body in anger the night after he received her letter, but he'd restrung it on a leather cord and slid it back on moments later – unable to bear not feeling the cool weight of it against his skin.

Something was wrong, he couldn't explain it – but he felt it deep within his very core.

If she were truly dead, he would have to see it with his own eyes. He would have to have absolute proof.

He knew his father would be angry, furious even, if he discovered that he chose to defy him, but Nathaniel simply didn't care. Whatever the consequences, he would suffer them if they came.

He stuffed a few things into a light pack, dressed in his armor, and made his way to front gate intending to seek passage back to Ferelden on the first available ship


	5. Chapter 5: The Crumbling City

_**Disclaimer: **_Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront!

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_Thanks to all the new adds and readers, and to my wonderful beta **artemiskat**! Hugs to you all! :)_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Five: The Crumbling City<strong>_

Elissa fought against The Warden-Commander tooth and nail, forcing him to drag her kicking and screaming into the servants exit with her faithful mabari, Gladius, trailing behind, silent in his distress.

Duncan was forced to stop just before fully exiting the castle to try and impress upon her just how important it was that she calm and silence herself so that they could escape into the surrounding forest without attracting too much attention.

"Your parents have made this choice so that you might live, do not allow their sacrifice to be in vain," he said, plopping her down unceremoniously from the shoulder he'd tossed her over before gripping her shoulder and forcing her to focus on something other than her anguish.

She only nodded in response, but became silent as he requested and quickly fell into step behind him as they moved like ghosts through the wood outside the burning remains of her home.

Duncan pushed as hard as he could, getting them to what he felt was a safe distance from the chaos behind them before deciding to stop and allow a few precious hours of rest.

"I do not need to rest." Elissa insisted, though Duncan could see her wavering on her feet as though she would fall at any moment. "I have done my endurance training, I am well enough to continue."

"Perhaps," Duncan replied, allowing himself a little chuckle at Bryce Cousland's spitfire of a girl's unwavering spirit still alight even in the shadow of such tragedy. "But I had already been travelling for several days when I arrived in Highever to see your father, and never got to rest before having to sprint away again. Forgive me if I beg for a few hours of rest, if only for myself and the sake of your hound."

Gladius whimpered at her and shifted on the sore pads of his feet, and she softened at the touch of his head on her hand.

"Of course… I-I'm sorry… I didn't think…" Elissa answered, sheepishly – dropping her pack and weapons onto the ground and crouching to scratch at the mabari's head as he gratefully curled up to rest on the soft earth.

"Think nothing of it…" Duncan insisted with a gracious wave of his hand, settling himself down against a nearby tree to try to ease his own aching body. "If you do not feel as though you can rest, there is a stream nearby where you can wash some of the grime from your armor. This will likely be the only time we can afford such a luxury until we reach the safety of Ostagar, so I would recommend doing so while you have the time"

Looking down at herself in the softly glowing light of the rising sun, she realized she was absolutely covered in blood. Her armor and even the clothes beneath were saturated with blood. Her hair hung not in its usual heavy ringlets, but thick mats where blood had clotted into it. Her hands were stained red with it… the blood of Howe's men… the blood of her Father.

Suddenly she **had** to get it off, dashing through the trees in horror and dropping to her knees with a hard thump beside the water. She ripped off her gloves, tossing them to the ground and scrubbing at the stains on her hands, armor and clothing until they were less noticeable until nothing remained but her hair.

She leaned forward, soaking the long locks thoroughly and watching as the blood ran in rivulets darkening the clear water of the stream. She repeated this process, over and over, refusing to stop until it finally ran clear.

When she finally sat back up, she caught her reflection in the stream, and noticed the glint of silver just under the edge of her armor.

_Nathaniel_… she thought, reaching up to absently stroke at the metal of his signet ring, wondering if he had been a part of his father's machinations. Did he know what had happened? Did he yet live, or had his father finally silenced him as Thomas had so often hinted he wished to.

Fear and anger and overwhelming sorrow started to bubble up in her chest, threatening to overtake her… threatening to break her down.

_No, __**No**__!_ she thought, squeezing her eyes closed against the thoughts of the man she'd been naive enough to trust, to **love** so completely, against the rushing torrent of emotions that warred for control within her. She slammed her fists against the ground, breathing deeply, forcing everything to settle back into a dull hum in the back of her mind. _If you let it out now, you'll never stop. You __**must**__ be strong, feel nothing. You __**must**__ find Fergus and ensure that Howe pays for what he did. You __**must**__ fulfill your obligation to the Warden who saved you as Father asked. A Cousland always does their duty. You cannot fall apart now. You cannot afford it._

When she opened her eyes again, the reflection of herself she saw in the water was no longer recognizable. The girl that had lived and laughed and loved so freely was dead, her light snuffed out hours before in the darkness of the massacre at castle Cousland and left to burn in its ruin.

She reached up and threaded her hands through her hair, combing it as best she could then parting it into halves and braiding each one tightly, finally pinning them in two tight buns at the base of her head just as her mother used to wear.

"I will **not** let you down," Elissa said aloud, standing once again moving back to the small clearing she had left her exhausted travelling companions resting in.

* * *

><p>The next few days passed in a blur. Elissa said little, and Duncan seemed content to travel in silence. He pressed them as hard as he could, resting only as often as he felt necessary in order for them to get enough food, water and sleep to continue the journey to Ostagar safely.<p>

A little over a week later, the three weary travelers made their way into the outskirts of the ancient city, only to receive a greeting from the King himself.

"Duncan!" Cailan yelled, smiling broadly as he strode over to greet him. "I was beginning to think you'd miss all the fun!"

"Not if I could help it, Your Majesty." Duncan replied, laughing lightly in reply and shaking the King's outstretched hand.

"Then I'll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all? Glorious!" Cailan continued, his golden armor shining in the sun that filtered in through the canopy of trees. "The other Wardens tell me you've come with a promising recruit… I'd be interested to meet anyone who made such an impression on you."

"Certainly." Duncan chuckled, stepping aside to reveal Elissa who had been silently standing behind him, whether she was anxious to meet the King or simply waiting her turn he did not know. "Allow me to introduce…"

"The Lady Elissa Cousland." Cailan finished for him, his smile becoming even more brilliant, if that was possible. "I'd recognize this face anywhere. It's been far too long."

"Indeed it has, Your Majesty." Elissa replied, offering the proper courtesy to him as he took her hand and laid a kiss at the knuckles.

"I do wish you'd call me Cailan, at least when we're not surrounded by the teeming masses of nobility it would no doubt scandalize to hear such impropriety. It makes me feel as though we don't actually know each other when you stand on such ceremony," the King whispered, leaning in to her conspiratorially and tossing a wink to Duncan as he stood back up, though he did not release his hold on her hand. "Your brother has already arrived with Highever's, men but we're still waiting for your Father, is he not with you?"

"He's not coming…" Elissa replied, struggling to choke back the emotion threatening to spill out of her again at the mention of her family. "H-he was killed when the castle was taken… they're all gone Cailan… all dead…"

"Dead? What do you mean?" Cailan gasped, reaching forward to hold her shoulders in comfort as sadness overtook her face and looking to Duncan with horror replacing the smile on his own. "Do you know anything about this?"

"Teyrn Cousland and his wife are dead, Your Majesty, along with anyone else unlucky enough to find themselves within the castle walls when it was sacked. Arl Howe has shown himself to be a traitor and has overtaken Highever Castle." Duncan explained, watching Elissa bury her face in her hands and lean into the cool polished metal of Cailan's breastplate as he rubbed her back in sympathy. "Had we not escaped, he would have killed us as well and told you any story that he wished."

"I… I-I can scarcely believe it… How could he think he can get away with such treachery?" Cailan spat, confusion and anger warring for control as he drew Elissa back gently to meet her eyes. "As soon as we are done here, the very second this battle is won, I will turn my army north and bring Howe to justice! You have my word on this, Elissa – he… will… **hang**! I know that it will not bring your mother and father back, but Howe will **not** profit from this."

"Thank you, Cailan," she whispered, leaning into the hug he offered her – allowing herself to revel in the warmth she could feel in it in spite of the heavy armor that covered the his body.

"No doubt you wish to see Fergus." Cailan continued, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead and then releasing her and starting to pace in frustration. "Unfortunately he and his men are out scouting in the Wilds."

"You have to call him back!" Elissa insisted, stepping forward to press her demand. "He could be in danger!"

"We are **all** in danger…" Cailan replied cryptically, his features darkening for a moment before the shadow passed and he moved back into his usual friendly neutrality. "Nothing can be done until he returns and that will not be until the battle is over. All I can suggest is that you vent your grief on the darkspawn for the time being."

"As you say, Your Majesty…" Elissa replied, backing down and physically withdrawing from the space she had occupied with him, realizing he had now stopped being her old friend and become her King once again. "So long as Arl Howe pays for what he did to us, I will follow orders as they are given me."

"I promise you, the Howes will pay for every cruelty they have dealt to you, Elissa." Cailan assured her, and when she met his eyes she realized he was not referring solely to the horrors the Arl had subjected her to. "I suppose I should return to my tent…" Cailan sighed heavily. "Loghain waits eagerly to bore me with his strategies…"

"Your uncle sends his greetings and reminds you that Redcliffe forces could be here within a week…" Duncan called to him, stopping the heavy footfalls of his departure.

Both he and Elissa had very nearly forgotten the Warden-Commander was even there.

"Eamon just wants in on the glory." Cailan laughed, shaking his head. "We've won three battles against these monsters already, and tomorrow should be no different."

"I didn't realize things were going so well!" Elissa added, her eyebrows rising in surprise as she tried to read Duncan's neutral expression for confirmation.

"I'm not even sure this **is** a true Blight." Cailan said, waving his hand dismissively. "There are plenty of darkspawn on the field, but alas, we've seen no sign of an Archdemon."

"Disappointed, Your Majesty?" Duncan asked, his features remaining impassive.

"I'd hoped for a war like in the tales! A King riding with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted god…" Cailan said, his eyes going glassy as he imagined his own tale. "But I suppose this will have to do. Now, I must go before Loghain sends out a search party. Farewell my lady, and you as well, Duncan."

The King offered a final brilliant smile to them both before disappearing back into the city.

* * *

><p>Elissa watched him in silence until Duncan's voice brought her back to reality.<p>

"I wasn't aware you and the King knew one another." Duncan said, and Elissa could hear curiosity lurking beneath his carefully schooled features.

"There was a time when our families sought to make a match between us, which **clearly** did not take." Elissa chuckled, thinking back to the many failed matchmaking attempts of Arl Eamon and his wife Isolde. "We have maintained a friendship over the years, much to Anora's chagrin I'd imagine. Cailan always did fancy himself a hero of legend. It's reassuring in a way to see that he hasn't changed."

"What the King said is true." Duncan explained, chuckling at her remarks as he motioned her in the direction of the great bridge to the city proper. "They **have** already won several battles against the darkspawn here."

"Yet **you** don't sound very reassured." Elissa replied, falling into step beside him and noting out of the corner of her eye that Gladius now paced himself slightly behind but between them both, granting his acceptance of Duncan's presence as only a mabari could do.

"I know there is an Archdemon behind this…" Duncan offered, cryptically. "But I cannot ask the King to act solely on my feelings."

"Why not?" she inquired, not missing the certainty in his assertion of the involvement of an Archdemon, but knowing he would not answer her question at this point even if she gave it voice. "Cailan has always thought the Grey Wardens to be god's among men, and he certainly appears to value your personal opinion quite highly."

"Yet, he chooses not to wait for the reinforcements I have requested from the Wardens in Orlais…" Duncan replied, and she could see the tension move into his posture though he tried to hide it. "He believes our legend alone makes us invulnerable, but our numbers in Ferelden are too few. That leaves us in the uncomfortable position of doing as much as we can and leaving it in the hands of Teyrn Loghain to make up the difference… To that end, we must proceed with The Joining ritual without delay."

"The Joining… what ritual…." Elissa inquired, her brows knitting together as she searched her memory for any mention of such a thing in the many texts on Warden histories she had read throughout the years.

"Every recruit must go through a secret ritual we call The Joining in order to become a Grew Warden." Duncan explained. "The ritual is brief, but some preparation is required. We must begin soon."

"Am I the only recruit here?" Elissa asked, her mind still focusing on a ritual so secretive that there was no record of it even having existed.

"No, there are two others here already; they've been waiting for us to arrive." Duncan explained, stopping as they reached the edge of the bridge that led into the crumbling city.

"Why is this ritual so secret?" Elissa asked, knowing he would not answer but unable to suppress the need to know.

"The Joining is dangerous." Duncan answered, meeting her eyes to press his point home. "I cannot say more of it except to say that you will learn all in good time. Until then, you must trust that what is done is necessary."

"I will take you at your word." Elissa replied, nodding at him and schooling her features into neutrality, before breaking into a light smile. "It's not as though I have any other choice."

"Indeed." Duncan chuckled, looking out over the bridge. "Feel free to explore the camp as you see fit. All I ask is that you do not leave it. You should seek out another Warden by the name of Alistair; he will make an excellent guide. Gladius can remain with me while I attend to some business. The Grey Warden tent is across the bridge at the center of the city, find us there when you've retrieved Alistair and become familiar enough with your surroundings to feel comfortable."

She nodded in response; watching him stroll away and giving Gladius leave to trail after him. He padded off happily and bounced lightly at Duncan's heels receiving a light pat in reward for his efforts.

Looking out over the expanse of the bridge, she was taken for a moment by the beauty of the great city. Even now as it fell into ruin, it was obvious how impressive it must have been in its time.

She watched the banners of the Wardens and the banners of the King flutter in the wind as she strode across the bridge, allowing herself to relish – for just a moment – the feeling that she was, in an odd way, on the cusp of living the very life she'd always dreamed of. The nightmare of her family's death aside, there was, in this moment, some small happiness to be gleaned from something she had long assumed out of her grasp.

A guard stopped her with a smile at the far edge of the bridge near the crumbling stone archway that led into the city proper. She asked politely if he knew where she could find this Alistair, and he directed her north toward the mage encampment.

She passed kennels full of hounds waiting for the upcoming battle, and a group of mages so focused on their craft they seemed almost unbound from the world around them. Before coming to Ostagar, Elissa would never believed herself to have lived a sheltered life, but these few days outside of the world her parent's nobility had afforded her were proving that much of the **real** world had been so inadequately represented in the books and stories of her youth.

* * *

><p>So lost in her thoughts and wonder was she, that she did not notice the man barreling through the camp in frustration until she ran face first into the plate of his chest piece. She stumbled backward, very nearly losing her footing until his fingers wrapped around her upper arms bringing her to a more stable position and giving her a clear look at the man's face.<p>

"Oh! Your Lordship, forgive me… I did not see you there… I was, distracted." Elissa stuttered, looking up into the gruff visage of Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir.

"You are Duncan's new Grey Warden recruit I assume…" Loghain replied, releasing her arms when he seemed certain she wouldn't fall over.

"Yes… that would be me," she laughed, slightly unnerved to be in his presence, as she knew that not only did his daughter Anora have no love for her, but he was also rumored to be a close personal friend of Rendon Howe's.

"Maric respected the Grey Wardens. They have an honored place among our people." Loghain explained, suddenly reminding her of Aldous who had taught her such things long ago, only to be slaughtered with the others in the massacre at her home a few days before. "You are aware his father brought the order back to Ferelden?"

"I am well versed in our countries histories, Your Lordship." Elissa assured him, fighting down the wave of sadness that had threatened to surface along with the memory of her old tutor.

"You are noble born then?" Loghain asked, his eyebrows rising as he tried to place her face. "I thought you looked familiar. Have I seen you at the Landsmeet?"

"That is entirely possible, my Father was the Teyrn of Highever," she replied, schooling her features into neutrality and carefully watching his face for any sign that he had known what Arl Howe had plotted against them.

"Ah, the King has told me of his promise." Loghain replied, his face completely emotionless other than the undertones of annoyance that had been there from the beginning. "I am certain he has every intention on following through."

"Cailan is a good King and loyal friend." Elissa retorted, intentionally choosing to use his proper name rather than his title in an attempt to provoke some kind of reaction from Loghain and give her a read of his loyalties. "I have complete faith that he will ensure that Arl Howe is paid full retribution for his crimes."

"Indeed…" Loghain answered, his eyebrows knitting slightly – but not enough to show Elissa anything that she could take as certainty that he had been involved or at least had knowledge of what had been planned for her family. "I must return to my task. Pray that our King proves amenable to wisdom, if you're the praying sort."

"You don't seem very fond of Cailan, Your Lordship," she said to the back of his armor, knowing he would turn around to address her but unprepared for the fury she now saw burning underneath the calm façade he presented to her.

"**Cailan** is Maric's son and the leader of my beloved Ferelden." Loghain said, his voice lowered to menacing as he fought to suppress his anger at having been questioned in such a way. "He is also a very young man, and very naive in the realities of war. I try to keep that in mind, as should you. **Now**, if you'll excuse me… there are important things I must attend to even if you have nought."

She watched his back as he walked away, getting the feeling that there was **something** off about him, but not knowing whether she could trust her warring emotions to lead her true.


	6. Chapter 6: A Very Strange Man

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_Sorry for the delay. This chapter fought me a bit :) But I think I got it under control._

_Thanks to all the new followers, readers, and lurkers out there - and to all those who have come along from the beginning! You guys are awesome!_

_Extra special thanks to my Lady Beta **artemiskat**!_

_Tidbit of randomness for this chapter: In my imaginary movie of this tale, Alistair is played by Ryan Kwanten (Jason in True Blood), without the crazy southern accent of course :)_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Six: A Very Strange Man<strong>_

"When I first laid eyes on her, I thought the Maker **had** to be playing some kind of cruel joke on me, you know – payback for the whole failed attempt at proper templaring and what not…"

That was the way it started when the King of Ferelden described his memory of the first time he'd met the woman who would become the Hero of Ferelden. He smiled, grabbed another wedge of cheese from the plate in front of him, and with a far away look in his eyes continued with his recollection.

"I know what people say, that I was so taken with her because I'd been sent off to the Chantry without having much in the way of…erm... experience with the ladies." Alistair continued, starting to blush already - though we'd hardly reached a topic that could be considered tawdry. "But I'd seen plenty of women before, pretty ones even… but none of them were like her. She was stunning, I mean it – **stunning** – all those red curls and those twinkly green eyes, and those legs… Andraste's grace the skirt on that first set of armor… I mean, I found out later she'd been forced to dress in a hurry because her entire household was being slaughtered at the time and thus had neglected to put on her leggings which kind of put a kibosh on the whole sexy aspect... but at the time all I saw was a great expanse of her porcelain skin every time she moved."

I couldn't help but laugh, watching as the color of his blush deepened and began to take over his entire face. I'd been told a number of times just how easy it was to fluster the King with any mention of topics relating to things of a more intimate nature, but to watch the man embarrass himself was beyond hysterical.

"People just assume that she somehow bewitched me with her body, but in truth, though it was admittedly what initially caught my eye... I mean, you've seen her, right... of course you have... that was... silly of me. At any rate, what I mean to say is, it was not her beauty that finally managed to capture my heart," he said, shaking his head sheepishly, knowing that he was rambling in his addled state but unable to control it anymore than the glowing red hue on his cheeks.

"So, what was it then?" I asked, leaning back in my chair and cradling my now warm ale against my chest and chuckling with him. "What was it about this particular woman that laid claim to the heart of the King?"

"It was such a simple thing, really. She laughed at my jokes…"Alistair admitted, absolutely beaming at the memory - a glorious glowing smile I could not help but return. "Not some silly half laugh you give out of pity or politeness... and I've gotten **plenty** of those in my time so I know what to look for... but she would chuckle riotously... actual **genuine** laughter that would sometimes bring her to tears while she held her sides and begged me to stop so she could catch her breath. I looked at her and I realized that I had suddenly gone from feeling completely alone in the world, to having a co-conspirator who not only understood my warped sense of humor somehow, but she **appreciated** it. She appreciated me. It was in that moment I knew that the Maker himself blessed me when she walked into my life. Of course, I also understood that I was **completely** doomed."

* * *

><p>Elissa could hear the two men arguing long before she crested the hill and came into view. One voice, clearly a mage, and another she assumed had to be Alistair's given that the guard had told her specifically that he was delivering a message to the mages.<p>

The discussion was not going well, due in no small part to the heavy sarcasm dripping from every word out of the young Warden's mouth.

"Enough! I will speak to the Revered Mother if I must!" the mage snapped, silencing the Warden with a wave of his hand and stomping away so quickly he very nearly knocked Elissa over as she made her way up the hill and into the crumbling circle of ruins. "Get out of the way, fool!" he snipped, continuing briskly on his way without so much as a look back to see if she'd recovered from his hard brush with her shoulder.

"You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together." Alistair quipped, a grin lighting up his face.

"You are a very strange man…" Elissa replied, chuckling lightly and unable to keep herself from returning his smile.

"And you aren't the first woman to tell me," he laughed, his hazel eyes lighting up. "Wait… we haven't met have we? You aren't another mage…"

"Would that make your day worse?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and trying to suppress the smile that tugged at the edges of her lips.

"Hardly." Alistair answered, with a shake of his head. "I'd just like to know my chances of being turned into a toad at any moment."

"I'd have figured the arsenal at my back to be a dead giveaway." Elissa shrugged; turning slightly to give him a clear look at the blades and shield she carried on her back. "I am no mage."

"You never know, could be one of those tricky Arcane Warriors… you get all relaxed because you don't see the robes and the staff then BAM, toad time!" he replied, and she found herself laughing genuinely for the first time in… well she couldn't remember how long it had been now that she thought about it.

"Wait… I **do** know who you are." Alistair continued, unable to take his eyes off her. When she smiled it lit the world around her like the light of a thousand suns. "You're Duncan's new recruit from Highever. I should have recognized you right away. I apologize."

"How could you have recognized me?" Elissa asked, finally calming her laughter into the occasional chuckle. "We've never met before."

"Duncan sent word. He spoke quite highly of you, though he did neglect to mention the part about you being so pretty…" he explained, color creeping into his cheeks as he blushed at his own flirtation. "Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Alistair, the newest Grey Warden… prior to yourself, of course… though I guess if you've come to find me you must already know that…"

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Elissa," she replied, reaching out to slide her hand into his and accept the greeting that had been offered, unable to resist widening her smile just a little as he continued to fight against his bashful stuttering in the presence of a "pretty" girl.

"I assume Duncan sent you to find me?" Alistair asked, clearing his throat and trying to return them both to some semblance of normality. "As the junior member of the order, I'll be accompanying you when you prepare for The Joining."

"Can **you** give me any information about it at all?" Elissa asked, lightly pressing his reaction to her beauty into usefulness. She had learned long ago such things could easily be used to her advantage. "Duncan was cryptic to say the least."

"Honestly…I can tell you no more than he, I-I apologize," he replied, turning his eyes away from hers when he realized that continuing to meet her gaze would render him unable to deny her request. "Try not to worry about it. It will… distract you."

"I suppose I have no choice to accept the secrecy…" she sighed, trying to maintain a grim expression – but quickly breaking into a smile at the worried look on his face – she didn't want him to feel pressured into revealing anything he wasn't comfortable with.

"You know… it just occurred to me there have never been many female Grey Wardens…" Alistair said, smiling back at her. "I wonder why that is?"

"Perhaps they are too smart for you…" Elissa laughed, watching his face light again as he chuckled himself. "But likely any number of reasons. Women are sadly underutilized in battle scenarios. I am confident in my skills, in comparison to men or women. You will not be disappointed."

"I'm getting that impression…" he replied, and the way his eyes met hers again relayed that he was not speaking of her battle prowess alone. "So, I'm curious… have you ever actually encountered darkspawn before?"

"No, have you?" she answered, wondering if this was some sort of test.

"Only a few… when I fought my first one, I wasn't prepared for how monstrous it was. The tales do not prepare you for the actuality of it. I can honestly say, I'm not looking forward to encountering another… which is **bad** considering I'm a Grey Warden…" Alistair babbled, looking away sheepishly and chuckling lightly. "At any rate… we should probably return to Duncan when you're ready. I imagine he's eager to get things started."

He started moving down the hill, stopping just long enough to allow her to fall into step beside him before continuing into the camp.

"That argument I overheard… with the mage… what was it about?" Elissa asked, unable to suppress her curiosity.

"Ah, that… The Circle is here at the King's request, and The Chantry doesn't care for it," he explained, his brows knitting in annoyance. "They just **love** letting the mages know how unwelcome they are, in any situation. It puts me in an awkward position, you see, I was once a Templar."

"That **would** be awkward," she chuckled, glancing at him and trying to imagine him in such a stiff organization, it must have been tortuous for someone with his sense of humor.

"I'm sure the Revered Mother meant it as an insult when she chose to send me as her messenger… and the mage picked right up on that." Alistair continued, shaking his head. "I would never have agreed to deliver it, but Duncan says we're all to cooperate and get along. Apparently **they** didn't get the same speech."

"Duncan mentioned there are other recruits…" Elissa said, wondering if she'd inadvertently passed them without knowing.

"Yes, Daveth and Ser Jory are here in the camp, have you met them?" he asked.

"No, not yet," she answered, noticing the Quartermaster at the bottom of the hill.

"Ah, we'll round them up on the way back to Duncan, and you can introduce yourself." Alistair replied.

"Do you mind if we stop at the Quartermaster, I'd like to sell some things… I just realized that I have no money and very little in the way of supplies other than what I carry on my back…" Elissa requested, knowing that no matter what lay ahead, she would need more preparation than she had been afforded during her rushed escape from her burning home.

Alistair shook his head in response, watching her comb carefully through her few belongings, selling a few that seemed to have no sentimental value but stopping at the shield. From looking at her, he could tell she was no shield maiden. Her movements were too fluid, and the bow and dagger at her back had seen many years of heavy use – leading him to believe she was a rogue.

The personal value of the shield must be great for her to have carried it so far and be unwilling to part with it, though it would likely garner her a great deal of pocket money.

"You know, I could carry it for you in lieu of my own shield, if you'd like." Alistair offered, watching her trace her fingers slowly across the crest of Highever, sadness heavy in her eyes. "Its craftsmanship is far superior to my own. I would return it to you when we reach a place where you can store it properly, and until then it would free up your back a bit to give clearer access to your blades and bow."

"Thank you," she sighed, feeling as though a great burden had been lifted off of her shoulders as she turned and offered it to him, watching him trade his own shield over to the Quartermaster and anchor the Cousland Family Shield at his back. "I cannot tell you how relieved I am that I will not have to sell it. It is one of the few things I managed to bring from home… I-it means a great deal to me…"

He smiled at her, starting to say something before they were interrupted by a leering voice just behind Elissa's left shoulder.

"Well, you're not what I thought you'd be," the man said, and Elissa could hear the smug look on his face even before she turned to look at him.

"And what did you think I'd be?" she asked, crossing her arms and looking him over as Alistair sighed heavily behind her.

"Certainly not a woman, and yet, here you are," he smiled, and she noted that he was indeed handsome and undoubtedly knew it. "The name is Daveth. It's about bloody time you finally came along. We were beginning to think they'd cooked this ritual up for our benefit."

"Isn't that a bit paranoid?" Elissa replied, rolling her eyes and tossing a smile to Alistair who was trying to corral them toward the remaining recruit so that they could return to Duncan and proceed with the necessary preparations.

"That depends on what kind of life you've led." Daveth replied, noting the high craftsmanship of both her armor and weapons and immediately placing her within the upper tier. "Me, I'm perfectly willing to accept that this Joining is some sort of punishment."

"Though you are undoubtedly in need of it, I assure you… that's not what the ritual is." Alistair interjected, meeting Elissa's eyes so that she could read the honesty in his words.

"Uh-huh…" Daveth nodded, quickly dismissing Alistair's assurances and turning his full attention back to Elissa. "You know, I happened to be strolling around camp last night…"

"**Sneaking** you mean…" Alistair interjected, earning a glare from Daveth and an amused chuckle from Elissa though she bade the other man continue his tale.

"**And** I overhear a couple of the Warden's talking, so I listen for a bit…" Daveth explained, leaning closer in to Elissa's ear as though Alistair would be unable to hear him. "I'm thinking they plan to send us into the Wilds."

"And you would be frightened by such a thing?" Elissa inquired, her eyebrows rising wickedly as she tossed him a half smirk and then winked at Alistair conspiratorially.

"Cannibals, beasts, witches and now darkspawn? What isn't to be scared of?" Daveth grumbled, crossing his arms and inspecting her closely to see if she was really as unaffected by his news as her bravado would lead him to believe. "It's all too secretive for me… makes my nose twitch. I guess we just have to wait and see. Like we have a choice…"

He glared pointedly at Alistair, as though he was a part of some grand conspiracy plotting for his destruction. Alistair shrugged innocently in response.

"I tell you what…" Elissa said, leaning in closer to the rogue's ear, feeling the need to offer whatever slight reassurance she could to calm the man's obvious fear. "I'll watch your back if you watch mine."

"Oh, I'll watch your back…" Daveth replied, a grin spreading quickly across his face, all thoughts of the Wilds and conspiracies gone just as quickly as they had come.

"What a charmer you are!" she laughed, adjusting her pace to fall in step with Alistair once again.

"That's me." Daveth chuckled, taking a nice long look over the back of her body in appreciation.

"Do try not to get **too** distracted." Alistair interjected, his brow knitting in frustration as he broke the line of sight between the rogue's wandering eyes and Elissa's backside. "I'd really rather **not** explain injury via ogling to Duncan, thanks."

Daveth's eyes narrowed as they met with Alistair's, a silent challenge passing between them until the rogue gave in and lowered his back to the path in front of them. Feeling pleased with himself, Alistair steered them in the direction of the remaining recruit.

After Ser Jory's introductions were made he ushered them back to Duncan at the Warden encampment.

* * *

><p>"Since you're all here, we can finally begin." Duncan announced, turning back to the full group after having chastised Alistair for his brief but public argument with the mage. "You four will be heading into the Korcari Wilds to perform two tasks. The first is to obtain three vials of darkspawn blood, one for each recruit."<p>

"What could we possibly need darkspawn blood for?" Elissa asked, ignoring Daveth's pointed gaze when it was confirmed they would indeed be venturing into the forest.

"For The Joining itself." Duncan replied, sighing lightly at her question but unable to suppress his smile at her unwavering tenacity. "I'll explain more when you return."

"Of course, my apologies… Father always said it was simply in my nature to question authority," she offered, her features darkening with the mention of her family. "Please, continue."

"The second task concerns the retrieval of some items. There was once a Grey Warden archive in the Wilds, abandoned long ago when we could no longer afford to maintain such remote outposts. It has recently come to our attention that some scrolls were left behind, magically sealed to protect them." Duncan explained, turning his attention to Alistair and noting the concern etched into his features as he watched Elissa struggle with her sorrow. "I want you to locate and return with these scrolls if possible."

"What if they are no longer there?" Elissa asked, her face returning to its passive state as she returned focus to the task at hand.

"I suppose it is possible the scrolls may have been destroyed or even stolen… though the seal's magic should have protected them." Duncan admitted. "Only a Grey Warden would be able to break such a seal."

"I don't understand…" Alistair interjected, tilting his head in confusion. "Why leave such things in a ruin if they are so valuable?"

"It was assumed we would one day return." Duncan explained, offering a dry chuckle. "A great many things were assumed that have not held true."

"What kind of scrolls are these to make retrieval so important now after all this time?" Elissa asked, agreeing with Alistair's assessment of the oddity of the situation.

"Old treaties, to be honest." Duncan continued, unable to hide the smile starting to form at the partnership already building between the two young people standing before him. "Promises of support made to the Grey Wardens long ago. They were once considered only formalities, but with so many having forgotten their commitments to us… I suspect it may be a good idea to have something to **remind** them with."

"How are we to find this archive?" Elissa asked, eyeing him speculatively. "While I knew the lands of Highever and Amaranthine quite well, I know nothing of the Wilds. Are there maps we can follow or any landmarks you can give to guide us?"

"Do not worry, I would not expect you to find yourself there unaided. Alistair will be able to guide you to the area where you need to search." Duncan chuckled, turning to the newest Warden with instructions. "It will be little more than an overgrown ruin by now, much as all in the Wilds has become, but the sealed chest should remain intact."

With a few more words of encouragement, and instructions to Alistair, the Warden-Commander released his charges into the Wilds to attend to their tasks.

Elissa called her hound to her side once again, dipping to scratch at his ears before sending him back to Duncan's side and falling in behind the others.


	7. Chapter 7: Into the Shadows

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_This is a long chapter! I hope it's not too tortuous for anyone :)_

_Thank you to all my followers, readers, reviewers and lurkers! I'm LOVING writing this and it's fun to have others come along on the journey!_

_Special thanks to my Lady Beta, the always wonderful **artemiskat**. She had her work cut out for her on this one! :)_

_For those who want to "set the mood" inspiration music for this chapter was Broken by The Birthday Massacre._

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Seven: Into the Shadows<strong>_

Alistair moved to take point, leading Elissa and the other recruits deeper into the Wilds in search of the Warden cache that Duncan had requested they retrieve. He did not worry about finding the darkspawn they would need to fulfil the other task. He knew all too well the darkspawn would find them whether they wanted it or not.

It did not take long for Daveth to take the position Alistair had vacated at Elissa's side, laying his flirtation down with a heavy hand as he chattered with her about his recruitment coming in lieu of a hanging sentence for theft in Denerim. Elissa tried, in as polite a manner as possible, to convey that she was not interested in the rogue, but nothing she did would dissuade him from continuing to try, and so eventually she initiated a conversation with the knight in order to avoid a continued exchange with Daveth.

"Ser Jory, you said you were from Redcliffe, correct?" Elissa said, interrupting Daveth's current commentary on women with long legs and watching him frown petulantly beside her then fall slightly behind as she increased her strides to match pace with the knight.

"I do indeed hail from Redcliffe, but Duncan recruited me in Highever." Jory replied, smiling at her. "Have you ever travelled there?"

"I thought you looked familiar," she answered, looking him over more closely and attempting to place him in her memories. "My father was the Teyrn."

"My Lady Cousland!" he gasped, coming to a stop and dropping his eyes as he bowed. "I-I had no idea it was you! I am honored."

"Relax yourself, good ser." Elissa chuckled, slightly uncomfortable as she noticed both Alistair and Daveth were now focused upon their exchange. "There is hardly need for such ceremony now. If we are to be fellow Wardens, we will leave the world of nobility far behind us. I am no longer any different than you, if indeed I ever was."

"You are correct, of course, my lady." Jory said, laughing himself and starting to walk again. "As I was saying… I was in Arl Eamon's retinue when he attended King Maric's funeral. It was in Highever that I met my Helena. I was smitten! She had the most beautiful eyes… For years I found any excuse to return there. We finally married a year ago. Arl Eamon gave me leave to serve in Highever, but I was attempting to persuade Helena to come to Redcliffe with me. At least, until Duncan recruited me."

"So you just abandoned her to come here searching for what, exactly… honor, glory?" she snapped, her words and face instantly growing cold as his tale of sacrificing love turned her mind back to Nathaniel's departure to the Free Marches all those years ago.

"Abandoned her? Never! I will return to her once my duty is done and the Blight defeated!" he answered, clearly taken aback by her quick change in demeanor.

"What is it about men and **duty** that forces them to value it above all else?" Elissa mused, waving her hands about in frustration.

"It is a man's dedication to his duty that gives him worth, my lady. Certainly you cannot fault me for choosing to fulfil my obligations to Ferelden and make my contribution to defend my home against the Blight?" Jory asked, as adamant as she was about his feelings on the matter. "Making this choice does not lessen my love for my wife, or my child. Would you think me a better man had I refused Duncan's request and stayed in Highever waiting for the Blight to take care of itself? And what if others made the same decision? Would I still be a good man when the darkspawn showed up on my doorstep, slaughtering all in their path, when I could have done something to prevent it from ever happening if I had simply done my duty in the first place?"

"I am not questioning your worth, Ser Jory." she sighed, realizing she was allowing her past to shade her opinion of this man without knowing anything about him. "I simply become frustrated at times when I see people who can so easily toss aside love in favor of some romanticized notion of duty. Love does not come easily, or often, so when it is found it should be cherished and fought for and valued above all, even duty, else when duty is done one may find that love is also."

"I do not know what your love has done that so darkens your heart, my lady, but I am sorry for it… and I ask you to see that I am not he," he said, sympathy heavy in his eyes. "It was very hard for me to leave my wife. We married only a year ago and she is heavy with child… but Ferelden needs my blade and I shall not falter."

Elissa started to reply but stopped, reaching out to still the knight with a hand on his arm before calling in a low voice to Alistair and motioning him to stop. He circled back over to where she stood with Jory, Daveth moving in behind them.

"There are wolves nearby… close… over the crest of the hill just ahead I think…" she said, closing her eyes and reaching out with her senses – heading the sounds and smells of the forest. "There are a great number of them, though I am uncertain how many exactly."

"How did you..?" Alistair stuttered, eyes wide in surprise.

"I have always had an affinity with animals and nature. My Father suspected I had the makings of a Ranger, though I have never had proper training." Elissa explained, watching them all inspect her warily. "I am also quite good at tracking. The number of wolf prints has steadily been increasing as we made our way deeper into the forest. They are fresh tracks and all moving in the same direction as we are. I was unconcerned as I had heard no signs of them, but as we came to the bottom of that last rise I started to hear low growls. I felt it best to warn you rather than stumble headlong into the fray."

"Blimey but you're frightening!" Daveth noted, shaking his head in amusement at Elissa's slight smile.

"Well, I suppose we'd best take care of them then." Alistair said, pulling his longsword and shield loose from his back. "Shall we?"

He led the group over the hill where they saw that there were indeed a large number of wolves tearing into what appeared to be the recently downed corpses of soldiers. As soon as the animals caught their scent, they lost interest in the corpses and turned on the new arrivals – growling menacingly as they surrounded the group. Alistair bellowed once, forcing them all to focus their attention onto him and allowing the rest of the group to fan out and attack while remaining mostly uncontested.

It did not take long to finish off the wolves. They were only simple forest creatures, formidable hunters to be sure – but unaffected by the blight, and easily dispatched. Daveth made quick work of skinning the few that could be salvaged for easy money with the Quartermaster, and the group readied to move on.

Elissa had already moved forward to inspect one of the fallen soldiers, and Alistair watched as her face immediately turned horrified when she recognized the crest that marked his armor.

"These men are from Highever!" she cried, running from body to body, rolling each one and brushing blood and mud aside to see their faces, stopping only when she heard the pained moans of the one man who somehow managed to survive.

"O-over h-here…." The man groaned, reaching out to Elissa who had rushed over and knelt down by his side, taking his upper body into her lap and carefully inspecting his wounds. "G-grey Wardens?"

"Well, he's not as dead as he looks, is he?" Alistair quipped, his smile quickly fading as Elissa turned a hateful glare back at him before turning her attention, once again, to the injured soldier.

"M-my scouting band… we… we were attacked by darkspawn. They just came out of nowhere… out of the ground" he explained, his eyes horrified as he struggled for words. "Please, you have to help me! I've got to return to camp."

"Fergus… Fergus Cousland… do you know him? Did he survive?" Elissa insisted, turning the man's face back to hers with a forceful but gentle touch.

"I-I do not know… we were separated from his group during the assault," the man replied, his breath coming in bursts as he fought the memory of what he had endured. "I was too badly injured to move, but I have seen nor heard any other living thing save the wolves until you arrived."

"I see… thank you…" she replied, her face and body falling under the weight of the news that her brother may have survived the assault on Highever only to be lost to darkspawn in the Wilds. "Can you get up? We are not too far away from the gates. We can take you back to the medics."

"No, it's not necessary," the man insisted, struggling to sit up. "If you just bandage me up, I can make it back myself."

"I've got bandages in my pack." Alistair offered, crouching beside them and meeting Elissa's eyes for the first time since she had glared at him in anger.

He could tell she was fighting off tears as she treated the injured man, finally sending him on his way back to camp. Taking a deep breath, she brushed the dirt off her hands, standing and moving ahead down the path they had been on – stopping to inspect each soldier just long enough to make a note of the faces.

Alistair jogged to catch up to her, leaving the other two men to fall in behind them in momentary silence.

"I apologize for my earlier attempt at humor… it was… out of line…" Alistair began, before she silenced his words with a wave of her hand.

"Don't worry about it," she said, not looking at him but continuing her inspection of the bodies they passed.

"Fergus… he is your brother, I assume?" Alistair inquired, feeling the need to offer some sort of aid to the woman who was moments away from falling apart beside him.

"Yes… he is all… I **need** for him to be alive… he **has** to be…" Elissa mumbled, struggling with the words, clasping her fists and closing her eyes against the emotion welling up within her. "Look… I don't mean to be rude, I appreciate the effort you're trying to make but… I just **can't** talk about this, not to you, not to anyone."

"I-I understand…" Alistair replied, crestfallen but knowing there was nothing to gain by continuing to press her for information she was not yet willing to give.

* * *

><p>Elissa wasn't sure whether it was because he sensed her need for being released from her spot as the center of attention, or simply because he was so shaken by the injured soldier they'd just encountered, but either way she was thankful when Ser Jory broke the silence created by her refusal to speak and turned the groups' attention to him.<p>

"Should we not be concerned that an entire patrol of seasoned men were killed by darkspawn?" he asked, his eyes wild with panic as he eyed the tree line constantly, certain they would be ambushed at any moment.

"Calm down, Ser Jory!" Alistair insisted, sighing heavily as he turned to the man. "We will all be fine, so long as we're careful."

"I'm certain those soldiers were careful, and yet they were overwhelmed!" Jory responded, panic evident in his words. "How many darkspawn can only the four of us slay? A dozen? A hundred? There is an entire army somewhere in these forests!"

"There are darkspawn about, but we are in no danger of walking into the bulk of the horde…" Alistair insisted, the certainty in his voice causing Elissa to inspect him curiously.

"How do you know?" Jory insisted, crossing his arms defiantly. "I'm no coward, but this task is foolish and reckless. We should return to camp immediately."

"I find it hard to believe that Duncan would have tasked us with something he felt we were ill prepared to accomplish." Elissa insisted, checking the next two bodies and thankfully recognizing neither. "Besides, we are far from helpless. We would not have been recruited otherwise."

"While you make some good points, I still do not relish the thought of encountering an army." Jory insisted, softening slightly under the weight of Elissa's logic.

"Look, good Ser, you should know that all Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn." Alistair breathed, finally caving and revealing what Elissa was certain to be a closely guarded secret in an attempt to ease the knight's fears. "Whatever their cunning, I guarantee they won't take us by surprise. It's why Duncan sent me with you, well… that and I know the way to the Warden cache."

"So… what you're basically saying is… we might die, but we'll be warned about it first?" Daveth asked, grinning wickedly as Elissa burst into laughter and Alistair desperately fumbled for a way to alter his words in order to more accurately relay his message.

"That is… **not** reassuring…" Jory grumbled, trying but failing to suppress a chuckle of his own at the absurdity of the situation.

"Alright, alright, enough lollygagging." Alistair insisted, as the laughter started to die down again. "Let's get a move on!"

The group continued through the forest, stopping momentarily for Elissa to collect several Wild's Flowers she had agreed to bring to the Hound Master for aid with several mabari who had been infected with darkspawn blood.

Not far beyond the area where she had gathered the plant, Alistair stopped them – sensing a group of darkspawn just ahead. He looked to Elissa, waiting for verification that she was ready to face the fearsome creatures for the first time. Her only response was to unsheathe her blades and nod slightly, following behind him as he ran bellowing into the group that stood on a nearby rise.

Ser Jory visibly recoiled, horror clearly written across his face as he engaged one of the creatures. Daveth looked disgusted, and even Alistair was clearly affected by their presence though he had faced them before.

Only Elissa seemed unphased, slicing through the monstrosities as though they were no different than any other enemy she had ever faced. She was not afraid, not overwhelmed. She was focused and deadly, dancing around the creatures with a ruthless efficiency.

_Who __**is**_ _this woman?_ Alistair wondered, watching her with wide eyed wonder as she knelt unflinching by one of the darkspawn and opened its throat, filling the vial Duncan had provided and slipping it into her pocket as though it was something she had done a million times before.

She moved with a certainty of intention that belied her youthful features, a contrast that both confused and intrigued Alistair in equal measure.

His first darkspawn encounter had left him shaken, it had taken him days to recover – but she stood fearless in the face of it. In fact, the only time he could see fear creep into her eyes was when she would stoop to inspect the bodies of the soldiers they would pass.

Alistair was so focused on his attempts to understand her, that he ignored the twinge that should have alerted him to darkspawn nearby. If it hadn't been for Elissa speaking up, they would likely have been ambushed.

"Do you hear something?" she asked, sliding her blades free from their sheathes. "It's… like a clicking sound, an odd sort of clicking sound…"

Responding to her movements both Jory and Daveth readied for an attack. It was only then that Alistair acknowledged the sensation of them. He started to relay the information but four genlock rogues suddenly appeared from the shadows around them and they were thrown again into battle.

Noting the sound for future reference the group moved forward, cutting a path through several more groups of darkspawn before Elissa waved them to a stop, motioning them to take cover in a nearby copse of trees.

"Up ahead, that bridge is covered in traps," she whispered, peering out between the branches. "I think I can disarm them, but I'll need time. Can you keep them off me?"

She turned her eyes to Alistair, who looked surprised that she knew darkspawn were in the area. He could not see them with his eyes, and knew that she could not yet sense them as he could.

"Don't worry… I haven't stolen your super powers," she chuckled, smiling at him and offering a quick wink. "I just assume where there are traps there are things **watching** traps."

"Ah, right!" Alistair laughed, smiling back at her. "I think we should be able to keep them busy long enough for you to clear the traps."

"Do you see the stones just ahead, middle of the path," Elissa asked, watching as he looked and then nodded verification. "Don't go past those. The traps begin just beyond. I'll let you know when it's clear."

He stood and moved out into the open, Daveth and Jory following behind him. It didn't take long for several hurlocks and genlocks to come pouring out of the woods on either side of the bridge. Once the group had engaged them, Elissa sidled through the mass of bodies, slid her tools out of their hidden anchor point within her hair, and began to work on the traps.

One by one she heard the arming mechanism snap, rendering them inert. She moved to the last trap, so singularly focused on her task that she did not notice the new arrival until a burst of green energy burnt into the flesh of her arm. It knocked her back from her crouch onto her bottom and she cried out, reaching up to clutch at her bicep where the acid of the spell had started to eat through her armor.

"Caster!" she yelled, looking up to meet Alistair's eyes and watching him focus a smite on the Emissary that drained its mana lagoon, leaving it completely vulnerable to Daveth's blades.

It dropped quickly, along with the remaining minions, and Alistair dashed over to her side to inspect the damage.

"It's fine" Elissa assured him as he carefully prodded the wound, pouring water over it to rinse the last of the acid away. "Just let me get a poultice and bandage on it and I'm alright to continue."

"It's unfortunate we don't have a proper healer along." Alistair said, his brow creasing in concern while she finished treating her wound. "I'm certain that's going to scar."

"Hey! Keep your _proper healing_ away from me, thank you very much!" she quipped, taking the hand Alistair offered and getting to her feet. "**This** is my very first battle scar! I earned it and shall wear it proudly!"

"You are an odd woman…" Alistair chuckled, echoing her earlier commentary on him as he fell into step beside her.

"Coming from you, I'll take that as a complement," she replied, winking at him and watching his face color in response to her attention.

"The ruins are just ahead, you can see them at the top of the hill." Alistair said, clearing his throat and pointing.

"Can you sense anything? Are there more ahead?" she asked, squinting her eyes to try and make them out, though she knew she was unlikely to see them from this distance.

"There **are** darkspawn, a great number of them, we should proceed with caution – I can sense that one of them is much stronger than the others." Alistair explained, looking to see that both Daveth and Jory also acknowledged his warning.

"Another Emissary?" Elissa asked, wondering how long it took a Templar's smiting abilities to recharge.

"I don't think so, I can't sense any magic." Alistair replied, concentrating on the sensation as though he was reading it. "I'm sorry... I can only make out that it's powerful."

They moved up the hill slowly, sticking to cover for as long as they could. When they reached the large fallen log that marked the last spot they could remain unseen, Elissa could count at least six darkspawn, but none of them looked to be more advanced than the drones they had already encountered.

"Those all look like minions," she whispered, arching her back to glance over the log again before leaning over to Alistair. "Can you see whatever it was you were sensing?"

"I can't." Alistair admitted, frowning as he slid back down beside her. "We're going to have to go in blind."

"Perhaps not. Can you stealth, Daveth?" Elissa asked, looking to the other rogue as a plan formed in her mind.

"I can indeed," he grinned in response, picking up on her idea.

"Excellent!" she replied with a smile. "I was only just beginning to study subtlety before Duncan… before I was recruited. My stealth skills are still terribly weak. They would easily detect me."

"I should be able to get close enough to map out what we're up against." Daveth assured her, looking to Alistair for guidance. "What am I looking for?"

"I can't tell you specifically, but it will look different from the others, likely in heavier more ornate armor." Alistair explained. "It should be obvious he is more advanced than the others."

Daveth nodded and slid into his shadow form, moving silently up the hill.

"You are a natural leader…" Alistair said, unable to fight the color once again creeping into his face as she pulled her eyes away from the rogue's path and back to his own.

"Not really, I'm just bossy…" she laughed, shaking off the complement and turning her attention back to the hill.

"Yes, but you're bossy with plans and knowledge and strategy." Alistair replied, noting that the rogue had altered his course and was now moving back down to their spot of concealment. "That makes you a leader."

"I would make a terrible leader." Elissa insisted, shaking her head. "I rarely ever choose a path that doesn't lead straight to trouble. You stick to the leading; I'll happily boss from the sidelines if you require it."

He started to respond, but she had already turned her attention back to the rogue who had dropped down beside her, sliding back to visibility.

"Looks to be an Alpha, **huge**, just inside the archway to the main ruin." Daveth relayed. "There are eight or nine others with him, but they appear to be just your run of the mill darkspawn, so far as I could tell."

"Alright, well I'll focus on him, you guys take out the rest of them…" Alistair began, stopping when he saw Elissa shaking her head.

"No, that doesn't make sense. **You** need to focus the attention of the larger number," she insisted. "If they are left running rampant, they could easily flank one of us. If they're focused in on you, Jory and Daveth will have no problem dispatching them quickly. I'll take the Alpha."

"That's a bad idea. I'm not trying to be insulting but the Alphas are strong – stronger than anything you've seen thus far, I'm not sure you're equipped to…" Alistair argued, stopping again as she rolled her eyes and turned to the other rogue.

"I'm going to assume he was armed, yes?" she asked "What kind of weapon?"

"Looked to be some sort of battleaxe." Daveth answered, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

"Cake." Elissa said, turning back to Alistair. "A battleaxe will cause his swings to be heavy handed and slow. I'm quick. I'll be able to dodge them easily while you lot make quick work of the rest."

"What if you can't dodge them?" Alistair insisted, frustration evident in his voice, knowing her logic was sound but still finding himself uncomfortable with her facing off with such a foe on her own. "Leather armor may as well be bare skin when met with a weapon of that size."

"This is the best course of action, and you **know **it!" she asserted, refusing to give in. "You're going to have to trust that I know what I'm capable of."

He hated it, but he knew he couldn't win.

She was right, this was the best plan – and so he readied himself to move up the hill. Motioning to the others, he dashed into the fray – yelling and screaming until all of the darkspawn had moved in on them.

From his periphery he saw Elissa dash headlong at the Alpha, sliding to the ground and arching her body backward to avoid the long swing of his battleaxe, popping back up to her feet gracefully behind him. It was like watching a dancer, the way she moved was effortless and beautiful – and she **was** fast, just like she'd assured him she would be. She ducked and dipped and spun and rolled, always managing to stay just ahead of his blows, just outside of his range – something that clearly infuriated the creature.

Daveth finished off the last of their group, and the three of them started up the hill to help Elissa finish off the Alpha, before realizing it was unnecessary. What Alistair had assumed was only an attempt to dodge his attacks until the rest of her group could assist in taking him down, had actually been Elissa mapping out the Alpha's fighting patterns.

As he swung his axe again, she jumped up, coming down with all her weight onto the head of the blade – planting it firmly in the mud. The Alpha looked up, realizing his mistake but unable to correct it before Elissa swept longsword and dagger into his neck, effectively removing his head from his body and ending the battle. She turned back to the group, wiping away some of the blood that had sprayed her face and sheathing her blades as the Alpha's body plopped to the ground behind her.

"What? I only said I **could** dodge him… I never said I wouldn't kill him too." Elissa laughed, looking at the stunned trio of men standing speechless before her. "I don't carry these blades around because they're pretty, you know."

She turned and walked into the ruin, moving over to inspect the remains of a ruined chest that lie in the back corner.

"I'm going to assume we **won't** be finding those scrolls," she sighed, watching Alistair move over to inspect what was left of it.

Alistair started to reply, but was interrupted by a voice coming from behind them.

The three men instantly armed themselves. Only Elissa stood unmoving – simply inspecting the new arrival with cautious eyes.

"Well, well… what have we here?" the woman asked, her body moving seductively as she made her way down the crumbling stone ramp and through the group, all of whom eyed her warily. "Are you a vultures, I wonder? Scavengers picking amongst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned? Or merely intruders come into these darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey? What say you, hmm? Scavengers or intruders?"

"We are neither." Elissa replied, watching the woman's luminescent eyes zero in on hers. "Grey Wardens once owned this tower."

"'Tis a tower no longer," she answered, ignoring the men and inspecting the lone woman with a curious eye. "The Wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated corpse. I have watched your progress for some time, you know? 'Where do they go?' I wondered… 'Why are they here?' And now you disturb ashes none have touched for **so** long. Why is that?"

"Don't answer her." Alistair insisted, suddenly finding his voice as he moved to Elissa's side. "She looks Chaisnd, and that means others may be nearby."

"Oh, you fear the barbarians will swoop down upon you?" she laughed, turning her eyes onto Alistair with a sneer.

"Yes… swooping is bad…" he retorted, sneering back at her.

"She's a Witch of the Wilds, she is." Daveth insisted, backing away from her as though she might curse him at any moment. "She'll turn us into toads!"

"Witch of the Wilds? Such idle fancies those legends… have you no minds of your own? You! Women do not frighten like little boys," she laughed, continuing to focus only on Elissa, despite Alistair's best efforts to draw her attention. "Tell me your name, and I shall tell you mine."

"You can call me Elissa," she replied, ignoring Alistair's concern. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Now that **is** a proper greeting, even here in The Wilds," the woman smiled, moving to stand directly in front of Elissa, causing Alistair to begin to move protectively closer until Elissa stilled him with a wave of her hand. "You, my dear, may call me Morrigan. Shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that chest, something that is here no longer."

"Here no longer?" Alistair spat, raising his voice angrily – but quickly floundering when Morrigan turned her angry gaze upon him. "You stole them, didn't you? You're… some kind of sneaky… witch thief!"

"How… **eloquent.**" Morrigan replied, rolling her eyes and turning her attention back to Elissa. "Tell me, how does one steal from dead men?"

"Quite easily, it seems." Alistair answered. "Those documents are Grey Warden property and I suggest you return them."

Elissa grimaced and shook her head at him, covering her face lightly with her hand and waiting for the retort she knew was coming. It was becoming apparent that Alistair had quite the talent for angering those of the magical persuasion.

"I will not!" Morrigan yelled, glaring at Alistair, all the work Elissa had done to maintain calm conversation flying quickly out the window. "'Twas not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish. I am not threatened."

"Can you tell us who removed them?" Elissa asked, positioning herself directly between Morrigan and Alistair and forcing the woman to focus back on her.

"'Twas my mother, in fact." Morrigan answered, calming slightly.

"Could you take us to her?" Elissa inquired, watching Morrigan's face relax once again.

"Now, **there** is a sensible request." Morrigan said, smiling at her. "I like you."

"I'd be careful. First it's 'I like you' but then **ZAP**! Frog time." Alistair insisted, ignoring Morrigan's distasteful glance in his direction.

"She'll put us all in the pot, she will." Daveth insisted, moving away from her as she moved closer to them. "Just you watch."

"If the pot is warmer than this forest, it would be a nice change." Jory insisted, though he inspected her cautiously as well.

"Follow me then, if it pleases you." Morrigan said, directing the comment specifically to Elissa, as though the others were not included.

"Sheath your weapons." Elissa hissed at them, trailing behind the witch as she moved into the forest.

* * *

><p>It did not take long for them to reach the rickety cabin where Morrigan and her mother had made their home. Elissa strode confidently next to Morrigan, while the men lagged behind cautiously inspecting their environment and looking as though they all wished nothing more than to run screaming in the opposite direction.<p>

"Greetings Mother." Morrigan called out as they approached the haggard old woman standing near the front door. "I bring before you four Grey Wardens who…"

"I see them girl!" her mother snipped, glaring angrily at her for a moment then turning to inspect the rest of them. "Hmm… much as I expected."

"Are we supposed to believe you were **expecting** us?" Alistair laughed, shaking his head.

"You are expected to do nothing, least of all believe," the old woman replied. "Shut one's eyes tight, or open one's eyes wide… either way one's a fool."

"She's a witch, I tell you!" Daveth hissed, ducking behind Elissa as soon as the words left his mouth. "We shouldn't be talking to either of them!"

"Quiet, Daveth!" Jory yelled, offering his best smile to the old woman before continuing to chastise the rogue. "If she's **really** a witch, do you really want to make her mad?"

"There is a smart lad! Sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides. Believe what you will." the old woman said, causing Elissa to wonder what she meant with her words until she suddenly found herself the focus of the woman's attention. "And what of you? Does your woman's mind give you a different viewpoint, or do you believe as these **boys** do?"

"I'm honestly not sure what to believe anymore." Elissa answered honestly, struggling not to falter under the wizened woman's heavy gaze, feeling as though she was peering into her very soul. "Everything I have been taught has been tested, so at this point I suppose I'm willing to consider the possibility of almost anything."

"A statement that possesses far more wisdom than it implies!" the old woman replied, smiling fully at Elissa. "Be always aware… or is it oblivious? I can never remember… so much about you is uncertain… and yet I believe… Do I? Why it seems I do!"

"Believe what?" Elissa asked, sensing there was much more to be said.

"Nothing dear… just the ramblings of a very old woman…" the old woman insisted, but her eyes betrayed her.

In her eyes Elissa could see both what lay behind her and the shadows of what may lay ahead. She ached to ask more, but was interrupted when Alistair spoke up beside her.

"Sooo…. **This** is a dreaded Witch of the Wilds?" he chuckled, attempting to cut the tension of the situation with humor, watching Elissa with careful eyes where she still met the elder witch's eyes with an intensity that chilled him.

"Witch of the Wilds?" the old woman laughed, breaking whatever spell that had held Elissa's attention when she turned her attention to Alistair. "Morrigan must have told you that. She fancies such tales, though she would never admit it. Oh, how she dances under the moon…"

The woman cackled, causing both Jory and Daveth to cringe and step back slightly.

"They did not come to listen to your wild tales, mother." Morrigan sighed petulantly.

"True, they came for their treaties, yes?" the old woman replied, meeting Alistair's eyes for a moment before turning to retrieve the old scrolls from a small box just inside the rickety shack. "Before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these until the rightful owner came to reclaim them."

"You…" Alistair started, watching her walk forward and place the treaties in Elissa's hands, and not his own. "You protected them?"

"And why not?" the old woman asked, eyeing him for a moment before turning her attention once again to Elissa. "Take these back to the rest of your Grey Wardens. Tell them the Blight's threat is greater than they realize."

"How do you know this?" Elissa asked, unable to ignore the intense feeling of foreboding travelling through her body at the light brush of the old woman's hand, this was no Chaisnd woman… this woman was something **more**.

"Do I?" the old woman asked, tilting her head and offering a half smile in response, looking for all the world as though she wasn't playing with a full deck, unless you could read her eyes as Elissa did. "Perhaps I am simply an old woman with a penchant for moldy parchments…"

"How can it be a greater threat than they realize?" Elissa prodded again, searching her eyes. "It's already a Blight, it can't be much worse than that, can it?"

"Either the threat is more than they realize or less. Or perhaps the threat is nothing!" the old woman muttered, stopping every now and then to chuckle. "Or perhaps they realize nothing! Oh, don't mind me. You have what you came for."

Elissa continued to inspect the old woman, who did not flinch under her curious gaze.

"Time for you to go then!" Morrigan said happily, moving to shoo the group away from their home.

"Don't be ridiculous girl!" the old woman snapped, her eyes sparking angrily as she turned her face to her daughter. "These are your guests!"

"Oh, very well." Morrigan huffed, rolling her eyes, and then turning back to the group with what was clearly a false smile plastered on her face. "May I escort you out of our woods?"

Alistair turned to follow her, Daveth and Jory falling in behind him, leaving Elissa to bring up the rear as she tucked the scrolls safely into her pack.

"I imagine it would please you to know that he lives?" the old woman half queried, and Elissa stopped walking, turning to her slowly her eyes narrowing.

"What did you say?" Elissa asked, wanting to be certain.

"Exactly what you heard," the old woman replied, smirking again and crossing her arms across her skinny body.

"Who lives? Fergus? My brother?" Elissa demanded, taking a few anxious paces toward the old woman, never noticing that Alistair had turned back and moved quickly back to her side in an attempt to intercept her. "Have you seen him?"

"No, his fate is not yet written," the old woman answered, shaking her head and looking over Elissa quizzically. "The one who your thoughts return to most often is not a brother… a friend, perhaps… no! A lover… though not completely."

"Nathaniel!" Elissa gasped, the whisper barely audible to anyone other than Alistair and the old witch who stood so near to her, her eyes widened impossibly in surprise.

"Yes… that's the one," the old woman laughed, low and somewhat menacing.

"Where? Where is he?" Elissa asked, her hand reaching up to absently toy with the ring that lay beneath her armor.

Alistair doubted she even realized she was doing it; her eyes were somewhere far away.

"Nowhere," the old woman replied, her smile widening as her eyes narrowed.

"Nowhere?" Elissa spat, suddenly returning to full awareness as her hand dropped away from its spot near her heart, her eyes narrowing back at the witch. "What kind of answer is that? How can he be alive and **nowhere**?"

"Because that is how and where he is," the old woman replied, laughing heartily, eventually clutching at her side and turning to go back into the old shack.

"We have to go, we need to get back to camp before it gets dark, it isn't safe to be in the Wilds at night." Alistair insisted, reaching over to place a reassuring hand on Elissa's arm. "Besides, I think she's done with the riddles for now."

Elissa nodded, finally pulling her gaze away from the old witch as the door to the shack closed behind her.

* * *

><p>Elissa didn't remember much of the trip back. Her mind remained focused on the witch's words, puzzling over their meaning.<p>

When they were once again safe in Ostagar, Alistair led them back to Duncan so that they could deliver the treaties and let him know they had gathered the required materials to proceed with The Joining.

Elissa stopped by the kennels briefly, delivering the Wild's Flowers she had collected to the hound master, then jogging to catch up to the group as they came to a stop near the bonfire at the Warden enclosure.

"You return from the Wilds!" Duncan said, smiling broadly. "Have you been successful?"

"Indeed we have." Elissa replied, reaching to retrieve the scrolls until Duncan stopped her with a wave of his hand.

"Hold onto them for now." Duncan insisted. "I've had the Circle mages preparing for the ritual. With the blood you've retrieved, we can begin The Joining immediately."

Elissa looked pointedly at Alistair, waiting for him to speak to Duncan of the women they had encountered during their journey into the Wilds. It seemed forever before the realization struck him what she was getting at.

"Oh! Yes! There was a woman in the old ruined tower." Alistair explained, turning to Duncan. "It turned out her mother had taken the scrolls when the chest that held them was destroyed. They were both very… odd."

"Were they Wilder folk?" Duncan asked, seeming unconcerned.

"I don't think so." Alistair answered, shaking his head. "They might be apostates hiding from the Chantry."

"I know you were once a Templar, Alistair." Duncan sighed, placing a stern hand on the young Warden's shoulder. "But Chantry business is not ours. We have the scrolls, that is what's important."

"The old woman said that the threat of the Blight is greater than we know." Elissa interrupted, unable to hold back the information, though she knew the riddles of an old woman living in a shack in the middle of the forest were hardly anything to rely on.

"The old woman said **many** things." Alistair continued, sighing heavily. "She spoke in riddles and circles and gibberish… I think she was half insane."

"She was odd, but not insane." Elissa insisted, holding Duncan's eyes. "She **knew** things about me, things she couldn't have known…"

Alistair started to argue, but Duncan silenced them both in frustration.

"Enough! We will discuss the riddles of the Wild's later, for now let us focus on The Joining." Duncan insisted.

"So, are you finally going to tell us what this ritual is?" Elissa asked, annoyed that no one was taking her conversation with the old witch as seriously as she believed they should.

"I will not lie. We Grey Warden's pay a heavy price to become what we are." Duncan explained, his features growing sad and distant. "Fate may decree that you pay your price now, rather than later."

"Then that is why such secrecy is required, because the risk is so great." Elissa noted, instinctively understanding that whatever this Joining entailed could easily kill them, though Duncan had not said those specific words.

"If only such secrecy were unnecessary and all understood the necessity of such sacrifice." Duncan noted with a heavy sigh. "Sadly, that will never be so."

Duncan instructed Alistair to lead the recruits up to the old ruined temple where the Circle mages had already begun to prepare the necessary elements for the ritual.

"The more I hear about this Joining, the less I like it." Jory mused, hanging back behind the rest of the group as Alistair guided them toward the temple.

"Are you blubbering **again**?" Daveth huffed, rolling his eyes at the bulky knight.

"Why all these damned tests?" Jory continued, crossing his thick arms across his chest. "Have I not earned my place already?"

"Maybe it's tradition" Daveth said, running his hands through his hair as the last of his patience with the knight's constant complaining ran out. "Maybe they're just trying to annoy you."

"I swear, I'm the only man here… and **I'm** a woman." Elissa whispered to Alistair, smiling as she watched him struggle to stifle his laughter.

"All I know is that my wife is in Highever with a child on the way." Jory continued, his voice rising angrily at his companion's failure to acknowledge his right to be moody. "If they had warned me… it just doesn't seem fair."

"Would you have come if they had warned you?" Daveth spat, spinning on him angrily, clearly having run completely out of patience with the man. "Maybe that's why they don't! The Wardens do what they must, especially in times like these."

"And that includes sacrificing us?" Jory retorted, his temper rising in response.

"I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end the Blight." Daveth replied, watching the knight's bravado falter.

"Will you shut up, **please**, the both of you?" Elissa insisted, turning her furious eyes on both of them as they moved into the circle of the temple's crumbling stone walls.

"Yeah, ser knight, try not to wet your trousers until the ritual starts." Daveth sneered, leaning against a nearby column.

Jory narrowed his eyes at the rogue, but remained silent as Duncan strode into the circle carrying a silver goblet.

"At last we come to The Joining." Duncan said, sitting the goblet down on the table behind him and pouring the three vials of blood they had provided into the cup. "The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the brink of annihilation. So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of the darkspawn's blood, and mastered their taint."

"We're going to drink the blood… of those… those… creatures?" Jory spat incredulously, looking to the rest of his fellow recruits in panic.

"As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you. This is the source of our power and victory. Those who survive The Joining become immune to the taint. We can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the Archdemon." Duncan explained, moving to hand the goblet over to Alistair who could not meet their eyes. "Not all who drink the blood will survive, and those who do are forever changed. This is why The Joining is a secret. It is the price we pay."

Jory was visibly shaken, pacing nervously along the back edge of the ruins.

Daveth looked uncomfortable but made no move to shy away from what was coming.

Alistair looked cautiously to the young woman standing beside him, not knowing what to expect. He had been terrified at his Joining, but she stood unflinching in the face of it. His heart swelled and sank in equal measure and he found himself praying to the Maker that she would survive.

"We speak only a few words prior to the ritual, but these words have been said since the first." Duncan explained, nodding to Alistair. "Alistair, if you would."

"Join us, brothers and sisters," Alistair began, meeting Elissa's eyes and noting that she did not shy away from his gaze but held it steadily. "Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be foresworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you."

"Daveth, step forward." Duncan said, taking the chalice back from Alistair and offering it to the rogue.

Daveth brought it cautiously to his lips, taking a gulp before handing it back over to Duncan. For a moment it seemed that nothing would happen and then he doubled over, clutching at his stomach and screaming in pain. He curled up in agony, clutching at the ground and gasping for breath.

Elissa started to move toward him, but was stilled by Alistair's hand on her wrist. Helplessly watching the rogue's last moments play out before her, she slid her hand into his and felt it tense for a moment, before he wound his fingers into hers in comfort.

"Maker's breath!" Jory spat, eyes widening in fear.

"I am sorry Daveth." Duncan said sadly, turning to the knight and offering him the chalice. "Step forward, Jory."

"But… I have a wife… a child!" Jory stuttered, backing away, refusing to take it. "Had I known…"

"There is no turning back from this path." Duncan explained, offering it again.

"No! You ask too much!" Jory hissed, unsheathing his broadsword and falling into a defensive crouch. "There is no glory in this!"

Duncan placed the chalice back on the broken altar, drawing his own blade and turning back to the knight. Alistair tugged at Elissa's hand, moving himself between her and the other two men, slightly surprised when she not only allowed him to but wrapped herself around his arm, burying her face behind his shoulder.

The altercation was over quickly, Duncan's skill easily overtaking the young frightened knight, leaving him bloody and just as dead as the rogue on the floor of the temple.

"I am sorry, Jory." Duncan said, wiping and re-sheathing his blade before reclaiming the chalice and striding over to Elissa.

At his approach she drew back from Alistair, releasing his hand and stepping forward to face her fate. Her thoughts rushed like a raging river. Who would tell Fergus of the decimation at Highever, if he even managed to survive? What would become of her if she died here, with no home to be returned to and no one to claim her corpse? Was the witch right, did Nathaniel yet live? Was he out there somewhere looking for her? Had she survived Highever only to die in Ostagar?

"From this moment forth, you, Elissa Cousland, are a Grey Warden." Duncan said, holding out the chalice to her.

"I do not fear death." Elissa said softly, holding Alistair's eyes with compassion as she drank heavily from the cup.

The blood was thick and tasted vile. She fought the urge to wretch it back up immediately. Seconds passed, then minutes, but nothing happened. She opened her eyes, meeting Alistair's, the question in them dying quickly as her throat began to burn – a horrible acidic sting that spread through her entire body doubling her over in pain. She dropped to her knees, clutching at her stomach, unable to stop her muscles from contracting, unable to stifle the scream she could feel boiling out of her as she faded away into darkness.


	8. Chapter 8: Voyage to Despair

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale._

_Thanks, as usual, to my followers, readers and passers by! And to my Lady Beta **artemiskat**!_

_This one is for all those on team Nathaniel :)_

_Theme music for those who follow that sort of thing was mostly Hymn for the Missing by Red._

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Eight: Voyage to Despair<strong>_

He picked over his belongings in a hurry, shoving any necessities into his pack and taking anything of worth to the nearest Quartermaster so he could exchange it for extra pocket money.

He informed the Commander of his unit that he would be leaving for Ferelden immediately, and that he was unable to provide him with any sort of timetable within which he would return – or say that he would return at all.

He somehow managed to persuade the stable master to supply him with a horse, which he then pushed into exhaustion in his haste to reach Kirkwall before nightfall.

He tracked down and arranged for passage on the first available vessel out of the city of chains, and stood silent on the bow of the great ship, staring out across the sea - asking the Maker for favorable winds to push them forward.

Lightning popped blue on the horizon, filling the dark tapestry of tumultuous clouds that spanned the sky with an eerie purple glow as the last light of the sun fled into twilight. Almost as though it was an answer to his prayer, the winds began to whip around him as the storms began to build strength out over the water.

He realized that he should likely be unsettled by the weather. Storms as a precursor to a voyage were ill omens; foreboding signs that spoke of death and destruction either past or future - but as he stood there, cloak billowing around him in the face of the squall, he was unable to focus on anything but his desperate need to reach Highever and discover what had happened to the girl he left behind.

He had been told she was a traitor to king and country.

He had been told she paid for this crime with her life.

He had been told she was dead.

He refused to believe it was true.

Elissa Cousland had given up on him. She had forsaken the bond between them to share her life with another. He had been heartbroken and bitter and angry, but a part of him had never truly been able to let go of her and of the intense connection he had felt to her and no other. It was that part of him that refused to believe she was dead, and that part which drove him to seek answers at Castle Cousland.

He had walked away from his familial obligations, from the life his father had built for him, and turned back toward the only place and the only person in the world that had ever felt like home. For the first time in his life, Nathaniel Howe was disobeying a direct order from his father, and it was terrifying.

* * *

><p>Nathaniel knew better than to risk going to port in Amaranthine. The people there were loyal to his father and would easily recognize him and report his presence back to their Arl. Instead, he chose a ship that would dock off the coast of Highever. It was closer to his intended destination and, he thought, less likely to be travelled by people who would know him.<p>

He was wrong.

As the ship pulled into port, he could already make out the Howe insignia on the shields and armor of the soldiers patrolling there. He pulled his cloak tighter around him, and slid his scarf up to conceal the lower half of his face, suddenly very thankful for the nondescript nature of his armor of choice.

He made his way off the ship, weaving through the throngs of people and setting a brisk pace on the road from the port to the castle. A single rider would attract far too much attention, and as he wished to remain unnoticed, he chose to walk rather than attempt to secure a horse for the journey.

The closer he got to the castle, the heavier the concentration of his father's men became. He was forced to leave the main road just a few miles outside of the port, sticking to the shadows of the wood and making use of all his stealth skills to remain undetected.

A few miles outside of the castle walls, he began to see dark tendrils of smoke weaving their inky stain into the sky. The sight of it knotted his stomach in apprehension and forced him to push his exhausted body even harder, willing his feet to propel him toward the answers he required.

He stopped at the edge of the tree line, struggling to catch his breath as he inspected the front gate, now lying splintered into pieces, the battering ram that had been used to break through tossed hastily into the fence outside the Cousland stables – shattering it as well.

He waited for a moment when the men milling around outside were otherwise engaged, and dashed over to and around the far side of the stables, making his way to the outer wall and scaling it in deft silence. When he reached the top, he was stunned at the destruction that spread out before his eyes.

The great walls lay in ruin, sections of them reduced to piles of stone rubble and smouldering wooden debris. Furniture, books, tapestries, and various other items had been piled haphazardly in hallways and courtyards, left to ruin in the rain or burned to ash.

He could see no one living who wasn't wearing armor marked with the Howe insignia, and so he crept silently along the ramparts in search of evidence that any member of the Cousland household survived.

What he saw as he reached the back edge of the inner courtyards chilled him to his very core.

The entire back corner, just next to the dais where he had once stood with the entire Cousland family on the day of Elissa's eligibility celebration, was now a great pit piled full of corpses. From his perch he could recognize the faces of many staff and soldiers he had come to know in his family's years of visits to Highever.

He watched as a dozen of his father's men shovelled dirt back into the hole, covering the bodies and transforming the landscape of his memory into a mass grave.

He did not see Elissa among the jumbled mass of limbs and faces, nor did he recognize any other member of her family, but it was difficult to tell how deep the pit delved into the earth and how many bodies lay crushed beneath those that he could see.

He wanted to believe his father retained the same sense of honor he had been so careful to etch into Nathaniel's very essence. He wanted to believe that Rendon Howe would not have simply dumped the bodies of the Couslands in some nondescript hole in the ground, unmarked and unknown for all eternity. Traitors or no, they deserved a proper burial.

He knew he would not get the chance to look closer, to search among the bodies for any sign of the girl he had loved. The area was too heavily travelled, and the men were working too efficiently. The pit would be fully covered by nightfall and he would be seen should he attempt to investigate under the clear light of day.

He was forced to seek answers in the idle chatter of the soldiers. The men would be relaxed by now, believing their task to be complete, and he knew if he waited in the shadows long enough he would be certain to overhear something of use.

* * *

><p>As the sun set in the sky, a small group of men gathered to eat their supper just beneath his perch. He did not have to wait long for them to broach the topic he had been waiting for.<p>

"Oi, heard you was there when they finally got to Lady Cousland," one of the men said, chewing at a large hunk of meat.

"Yeah, bitch took down at least eight men before we managed to disarm her," the other responded, chuckling slightly. "Defended the Teyrn right to the very end, a right hell cat that one was."

"Did ya get to… you know… have a go at her?" the first man asked, gesturing to the other and earning a rumble of laughter from the full group.

"I had a taste," the other responded, earning several congratulatory slaps on the back from the others. "Slit her pants, then slit her throat, you know how it goes."

It took everything Nathaniel had not to draw his bow and rain death down upon the lot of them. His stomach turned at the thought of any of those men laying possession to Elissa's body in such a way before taking the life out of it. He drew in a deep calming breath, tamping down the fury inside him, knowing that if he revealed himself now, it would only lead to his discovery and very likely his own death. Instead he bides his time – waiting for the night to fully consume the day, waiting for the soldier to separate himself from the group.

When he finally did, Nathaniel leapt upon him like a viper, dragging him into the shadows, muffling his startled yelp with one hand while stilling his struggles under the press of a dagger held within the other.

"I have questions to which I require answers, and so I am going to release your mouth," Nathaniel explained in a terse whisper, "if I believe for a second you are going to alert any others to my presence, I will slit your throat before you can think to make a sound. Am I understood?"

The man nodded, his body starting to tremble lightly from the weight of the threat.

"Did any survive the siege?" Nathaniel asked, his voice cold and as even as he could keep it with the rage that bubbled inside him.

"Only one, Fergus Cousland, son of the Teyrn," the man replied, his voice shaking. "All others within the walls were killed."

"You are certain?" Nathaniel continued, still not trusting the information - the Couslands had many soldiers and staff, quite a few more than those that now lay rotting in the pit he had seen earlier.

"Y-yes, we were told to purge the castle, and no one disobeys the Arl," the man stuttered.

"Where is the Arl? Is he here?" Nathaniel prodded, squeezing tighter as the man started to struggle against his hold.

"No, he's well on his way to Ostagar by now, had business to attend to" the man answered, taking in a deep breath and trying to turn his face enough to get a clear look at his captor "Wait, I know your voice… you're Nathaniel Howe!"

"Seems you're a little smarter than I gave you credit for, shame it won't do you any good." Nathaniel sneered, pulling the man's chin up quickly and fully exposing his throat to the dagger he held against it. "This is for the Lady Elissa Cousland."

With that he pulled his blade hard across the man's throat, holding him still while the life flowed out of him in a warm red fountain. When his struggling body grew still, Nathaniel released him, allowing his body to crumple to the ground heavily before climbing back up the outer wall and flipping himself back up onto the ramparts.

* * *

><p>He took one last look at the ruins of Castle Cousland and then disappeared into the shadows of the surrounding forest. Unsure where he was going, but driven by the need to put as much distance as possible between himself and the grisly scene behind him, he simply allowed his feet to carry him aimlessly forward.<p>

He didn't know how he'd gotten there, didn't remember directing himself or leaving the remnants of the Cousland estate with the intention of going to any specific place – but suddenly he found himself emerging from the trees into the open space that surrounded the lagoon he'd spent so many nights at in his youth.

He stopped for a moment, certain he could see Elissa sitting there on their rock – waiting for him with her feet dangling in the cool water below, certain he could hear her laughter echoing off the trees, certain he could feel the touch of her hand on his as she twined their fingers together. The force of it hit him like a tidal wave, taking his breath away and leaving his body unsteady in it's wake. He stumbled over to a nearby stump and dropped down hard on the wood, taking his head in his hands and threading his shaking hands into his hair.

When he looked up again, she was gone – but he could not ignore the power of the emotion, concrete and vivid, something more than just physical and emotional exhaustion finally breaking him down and forcing him to hallucinate.

His heart began to beat faster, he had not seen a body, and the bragging soldier had never specifically said Elissa's name or given a physical description of the woman whose life he'd claimed. Perhaps he had been lying. Perhaps he had been wrong.

Only one man could answer the questions quickly finding purchase in Nathaniel's mind. His father, Arl Rendon Howe, and that meant his path now led to Ostagar.


	9. Chapter 9: A Second Death

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_Primary theme for this chapter: Red Stars by The Birthday Massacre._

_Thanks to all the readers, lurkers, followers and to my Lady Beta **artemiskat**! :) _

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Nine: A Second Death<strong>_

_The screaming, oh Maker… the screaming…_ was all she remembered of the descent into darkness that followed The Joining.

She bolted upright from the darkness of nightmare, her eyes snapping open, reaching reflexively for the comfort of the ring that lay beneath her breast plate as she struggled to calm her frantic breathing.

"You're alright," a soothing voice assured her, and she became aware of the warmth of a hand covering her own as it squeezed softly. "It's over."

"W-where… w-what…" Elissa stuttered, inspecting her surroundings and finding herself sitting on a bedroll back in the Warden enclosure. Alistair was sitting on the ground beside her, his boyish features fraught with concern. "How did I get here? The last thing I remember…"

"I carried you here once we were certain you would make it." Alistair explained, a splash of color darkening his cheeks as he looked down to where his hand held lightly to hers. "I hoped it would be slightly more comfortable to wake up here than on the cold stone floor of the old chapel."

"I have nothing to compare it to, but I am certain that it was," she laughed, clutching lightly at her head when the sudden motion caused her temples to throb.

"Two more deaths… In my Joining only one of us died but it was… **horrible**. I-I'm relieved you made it through," he said, squeezing her hand once again before drawing his back to his side. "How do you feel?"

"Like I drank enough to drop a bronto, or simply had one sit upon my head." Elissa answered, attempting a smile. "Which, in light of everything that could have happened, probably isn't so bad."

"Did you have dreams?" Alistair asked, meeting her eyes hesitantly. "I had horrible dreams after my Joining."

"I think so... I can't really remember them clearly… there was screaming, endless screaming…" she replied, ignoring the chill that ran down her spine as she recalled it. "Is that normal?"

"We all interpret things differently, but the dreams come to all Wardens as we begin to sense the darkspawn," he explained, running a hand through his hair. "I'm still adjusting to all of this myself. I'm sure Duncan will be happy to answer any questions you have once we have time to actually sit and discuss things."

"No rest for the wicked?" Elissa asked, winking at him and watching him blush and look away from her.

"Y-yes, that's it…" Alistair laughed, nervously fiddling with something in his hand before composing himself enough to turn back to present it to her. "Before I forget, there is one last part to your Joining."

"If you tell me I'm required to strip naked and dance about the bonfire like a wilding, I'm going to have to request verification from Duncan before I follow your orders," she joked, leaning over and pressing her shoulder against his for a moment.

"N-naked… oh, dear, n-no… I…" he stuttered, backing away from her and tugging at the collar of his armor as though it had suddenly come to life and started to choke him before glancing over at her smirking face. "W-wait… you did that on purpose!"

"Guilty." Elissa admitted, lying back on the bedroll and tucking her arms behind her head as she smiled at him. "Now, out with it… what is this final step?"

"Evil woman!" Alistair grumbled, frowning at her as he settled back down – though the force of his displeasure did not reach his eyes. "Here… we took some of the blood from your ritual and put it into this pendant. We all have one. It's to remind us of those who didn't make it this far."

She nodded at him, understanding the weight of the truth that bound one Warden to another, and knowing it now bound the two of them together in the same way. She pushed herself up from the bedroll turning her back to the young man beside her.

"Would you?" she asked, motioning to her neck so that he understood she meant for him to tie it on, and shivering slightly at the feeling of his hands brush lightly against the base of her hair as he secured the knot to hold it.

"When you're ready, Duncan has asked that we accompany him to meet with the King," he said, his warm breath against her bare neck causing goosebumps to rise to the surface of her porcelain skin.

"Cailan? Did he say why he wanted us there?" Elissa queried, tucking the new pendant under her armor where the other already lay and turning back to face him, trying to ignore the sensations coursing through her body in response to his touch. "I can't see how I could offer any contribution to battle strategy."

"Duncan didn't say why." Alistair answered, standing and reaching down to offer her leverage to rise, certain he had felt her shaking lightly as he had secured the pendant and hoping she had not noticed his hands doing the same. "Only that the King himself asked for us specifically."

"Hmm…" she said, releasing his hands and falling into step beside him as he led them toward the area sectioned off for the war council.

"It seems you know the King well?" he asked, eyeing her curiously.

"We have been friends for some time." Elissa answered sheepishly, knowing that once again she had breached protocol by using his given name and was now being called out for it. "I have a hard time remembering to speak of or to him properly, and often find myself calling him by his birth name rather than 'Your Majesty' as his station dictates, a fact which I'm sure mortifies those around me. I apologize. As you can see, I'm rubbish when it comes to the finer points of nobility."

"I'm not offended, it was just surprising to hear someone call him by his name. I can't say I've heard it once when it wasn't preceded by Prince or King." Alistair chuckled, smiling at her. "I'm certainly not mortified. Besides, I'm rubbish when it comes to the finer points of Templaring. It will be good to have company among outcasts."

She smiled back, bumping her hip against his, and feeling a sudden wave of comfort in the knowledge that he was to be her companion, at least for the foreseeable future.

* * *

><p>When Alistair and Elissa finally arrived, the War Council had already begun, so they moved silently into place just behind Duncan. Cailan acknowledged them with a quick nod and a brief flash of a smile before turning back to his tense discussion with Teyrn Loghain.<p>

"Loghain, my decision is final!" Cailan sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "I will stand by the Grey Wardens in this assault."

"You risk too much, Cailan!" Loghain bellowed, throwing his arms up in frustration. "The darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines."

"If that's the case, perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces to join us after all." Cailan snipped, smirking lightly as he called the older man's bluff.

"I must repeat my protest to your **fool** notion that we need the Orlesians to defend ourselves!" Loghain spat, spinning angrily on the young king.

"It's not a **fool** notion. Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past." Cailan snapped back, narrowing his own eyes in response. "And **you** will do well to remember who is king!"

"How fortunate Maric did not live to see his son ready to hand Ferelden over to those who enslaved us for a century!" Loghain muttered under his breath, disgust clearly written on his face.

"If that's how you feel then I suppose our current forces will just have to do, won't they?" Cailan asked, turning to Duncan. "Duncan, are the Wardens ready for battle?"

"They are, Your Majesty." Duncan replied.

"And Elissa, I understand congratulations are in order!" the king continued, his smile broadening as he reached a hand over to squeeze her shoulder.

"Thank you, but it's really unnecessary," she smiled in return, trying not to notice Alistair's eyes on the exchange as she sheepishly skirted Cailan's attentions. "I'm no more special than anyone else here."

"Oh, but you are!" Cailan assured her, something she tried not to see flashing in his eyes before he squeezed her shoulder once again then stepped away. "And every Grey Warden is needed, now more than ever."

"Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan…" Loghain groused, his eyes narrowing on them as he noted the personal nature of the exchange. "We must attend to reality."

"Fine. Speak your strategy." Cailan sighed, tossing his hands up in surrender and turning back to the table full of maps and old tomes. "The Grey Wardens and I will draw the darkspawn into charging our lines here," he pointed a gauntleted hand, "and then?"

"You will alert the tower to light the beacon, signalling my men to charge from cover…" Loghain responded, a light roll of his eyes indicating this was not the first time he had gone through this plan with the King.

"Yes, to flank the enemy forces, I remember now." Cailan nodded, reaching over to point to another spot. "This is the Tower of Ishal, yes? Who shall we have light the beacon?"

"I have a few men stationed there." Loghain replied. "It is not a dangerous task, but it is vital."

"Then we should send our best." Cailan said, turning his eyes once again to the Wardens. "Send Elissa and Alistair to make sure it is done."

"If Teyrn Loghain says it's not dangerous, I am certain I can accomplish this task on my own." Elissa offered, watching Alistair's brow crease at the suggestion that he be removed from the main force for such a menial task.

"No, I'd rather you not go alone." Cailan replied, his tone more forceful than she had heard him use when speaking to her in the past. "It will ease my mind to know you have assistance should you require it."

"As you wish, Your Majesty," she acquiesced, knowing it wasn't worth continuing to argue.

"You rely too heavily on these… Grey Wardens…" Loghain spat, the name of the order falling from his mouth almost as a curse and leaving him looking as though he had tasted something awful. "Is that truly wise?"

Though his words spoke of his distrust of the Wardens in general, Elissa could not help but feel that his concern was directed onto her for reasons she did not yet know, and she shuffled uncomfortably under the weight of his stare.

"Enough of your conspiracy theories, Loghain!" Cailan snapped, his patience failing. "Grey Wardens battle the blight no matter where they are from."

"Your Majesty, I believe you should consider the possibility of the Archdemon appearing." Duncan interjected, turning the attention of the full council quickly in his direction.

"There have been no signs of any dragons in the Wilds." Loghain replied, huffing haughtily as though the idea was preposterous.

"Yes, Loghain, you have made it clear on a number of occasions that you do not feel this is a true Blight." Cailan said, raising his hand to silence the man before he could add anything else then turning his attention back to Duncan. "But, should the Archdemon indeed decide to make an appearance, that is what the Grey Wardens are here for, unless I am mistaken…"

"I… no, Your Majesty…" Duncan replied, unable or unwilling to argue against the King's point.

"I suppose this plan will suffice…" Loghain conceded. "These Wardens will light the beacon."

"Thank you, Loghain." Cailan sighed, relief flooding across his face and washing away the tension previously written there. "I can hardly wait for the glorious moment! The Grey Wardens battle beside the King of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil!"

"Yes Cailan, a glorious moment for us all…" Loghain mumbled, stalking back to his compound with the representatives from the Circle of Magi and the Chantry trailing behind him.

"Your Majesty." Duncan said, bowing slightly. "I will take my leave now as well. I would like to speak with my Wardens before the battle begins."

Cailan nodded, turning back to the map on the table as the three Wardens headed back to their own compound.

"Wait," the King called suddenly, stopping them in their tracks. "Elissa, could you stay a moment? I wish to speak with you." He noted the way she avoided Alistair's eyes as she turned back. "Duncan, I will send her to you at the Warden enclosure as soon as we are done."

"Are you comfortable with the task I have given you?" Cailan asked once he was certain the others had moved out of earshot, leaving them in total privacy.

"I am." Elissa replied, smirking at him knowingly. "Though I am certain you have given it to me more to keep me away from the dangers of the main fray than because it specifically needs my attentions."

"Ah, picked up on that did you?" the king chuckled, smiling. "I should have learned long ago I can get nothing past you." He reached down and removed his gauntlet, leaving his hand bare as he reached over to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear – his touch lingering on her jaw much longer than was necessary. "I hope you do not hold it against me that I care for your safety."

"I do not, though I hesitate to offer Alistair's forgiveness so easily," she said, watching his hand fall away at the mention of the other man's name. "You should take him into battle with you, Cailan. I do not need a babysitter and it seems you will need all the available men you can get."

"I do not need yet another person instructing me on how I should run my battle campaigns, Elissa." Cailan retorted, frustration rising then faltering as he met her eyes. "Just take him along, please, if only to humor your king."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Elissa replied, laughing as she curtseyed low in front of him, listening to him laugh in response.

"I cannot help but think, had we chosen to walk different paths in our lives, that you might be going into battle at my side for different reasons," he said, his eyes growing distant as he lost himself in the memories of another time.

"Hah! As if that would ever happen," she laughed, using humor to try and diffuse the seriousness of his words. "You'd have me shut away in the palace under lock and key rather than allow such a thing."

"We both know an ordinary lock would not hold you, my lady." Cailan replied, consumed by his own laughter. "And as I would be unable to spare the men it would take to forcefully keep you away, I would inevitably bring you along, if only to spare us both the wasted effort."

They both lost themselves in the absurdity of the imagined reality they had created for a moment, leaning against the table with their shoulders touching lightly. Once the laughter subsided, the air between them became heavy with emotion and Elissa thought to excuse herself before she was stopped by the King's voice.

"You know, I went to your parents requesting permission to court you, but they told me you had already been spoken for," he said softly, reaching over to gently touch her face and turn her toward him.

"I know," she whispered, and she could see in his eyes the feelings that still lingered beneath his jovial exterior.

"I would have married you years ago, had I thought for a moment you desired such a thing." Cailan continued, running his thumb along the edge of her full lips and leaning in toward her.

"I made my choice, Cailan, as did you." Elissa replied, turning away from his mouth, instead laying a chaste kiss into the palm of his hand as she took it in her own. "I was not meant to be your queen." She squeezed his hand once more, standing and taking in a deep breath. "And as much as I hold no love in my heart for Anora, I do not desire to disrespect her in this way. Nor do I care to further incite her father's ire against me. He glowers at me as though I am hell incarnate, and I cannot help to think this is mostly because your queen has never been a fan of our friendship."

"You are right," the king sighed, standing with her, shamed by her honorable response to his attentions. "My mind is clouded by thoughts of battle and of seeing you after so long, under such circumstances… I was not thinking clearly. I apologize for…"

"Stop, Cailan… I am not offended," she smiled, patting his shoulder sympathetically. "I will take my leave, however. I know Duncan seeks to speak with us before the siege begins."

When he nodded his approval of her decision, she rose and began to walk away.

"They are proud of you, Elissa." Cailan said softly, watching her feet still again at his words. "I have no doubt they watch over you even now."

"I hope you're right," she answered, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she turned to him one last time, her soft smile warming him in the chill of the twilight air until she turned away again and disappeared back beyond the reach of his view.

* * *

><p>Duncan nodded in acknowledgement as Elissa silently made her way into the Warden Enclosure and came to stand beside Alistair at the bonfire where they had been awaiting her.<p>

"I'll assume the king made no changes in his strategy." Duncan said to her, noting her acknowledgement before continuing on. "Well, then you've both heard the plan. You are to go to the Tower of Ishal and ensure the beacon is lit."

"So I won't be in the battle?" Alistair yelled, his features knotting together in frustration.

"This is by the King's personal request, Alistair." Duncan replied, his voice calm but clearly running thin of patience. "If the beacon is not lit, Teyrn Loghain's men won't know when to charge."

"So he needs two Grey Wardens up there holding the torch, what, just in case?" Alistair huffed, rolling his eyes.

"This is not your choice. If King Cailan wishes the Grey Wardens to ensure the beacon is lit, then Grey Wardens will be there." Duncan snapped, frustration quickly bubbling to the surface. "We must do whatever it takes to destroy the darkspawn… exciting or not."

"I get it… I get it…" Alistair acquiesced, sighing heavily. "But just so you know, if the King ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line, darkspawn or no…"

"I think I'd like to see that." Elissa chuckled, relieved to see his sense of humor returning.

"For you… maybe." Alistair said, tossing a wink to her and widening his smile when he watched the look of surprise take over her face that he had done such a thing. "But it has to be a pretty dress."

"The tower is on the other side of the gorge from the King's camp." Duncan explained, sighing heavily at his newest Wardens. "The way we came in when we arrived. You'll need to cross the gorge and head through the gate up to the tower entrance. From the top you'll overlook the entire valley."

"When do we light the beacon?" Elissa asked, wanting to be sure she did her task well, no matter how simple it seemed to be.

"We will signal you when the time is right." Duncan answered, turning back to her fellow Warden. "Alistair will know what to look for."

"We will make sure it is done." Elissa nodded.

"Then I must join the others. From here out, you two are on your own." Duncan explained, meeting each of their eyes in turn to ensure they understood the gravity of the situation. "Remember you are both Grey Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title."

With that he turned toward the Royal Enclosure where he would meet up with The King and move out to the front lines.

"Duncan…" Alistair said, his voice suddenly heavy with emotion. "May the Maker watch over you."

"May he watch over us all." Duncan replied, nodding to them both before turning once again.

They watched him walk away in silence, Elissa noting the tension that had now wound itself fully over her companion's usually relaxed demeanor.

"We should go…" she suggested, placing a hand on his arm to pull him out of his thoughts.

"Yes…" he answered, turning and falling into step beside her as she moved them toward the kennels to retrieve her mabari.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry you are being forced to miss out on the battle because Cailan is overprotective." Elissa said, smiling at the kennel master as she opened the gate and called Gladius to her side. "I did try to persuade him to allow me to complete this task alone, but he would not agree."

"I'm sorry, I must seem like a petulant child dragging my feet this way." Alistair answered, lowering his eyes sheepishly. "It isn't that I don't understand the importance of this task, or that I am displeased with your company…" he glanced at her from the corner of his eye but looked away again as soon as she noted it. "But I have this feeling of disquiet that I cannot shake."

"Then we shall simply have to complete our task quickly," she smiled, giving Gladius a pat as he nosed her hand. "Then we can join up with the main forces and settle your nerves."

He smiled at her, taking some modicum of comfort in her soothing words as they stepped out of the cover of the forest and onto the ancient bridge that spanned the gorge between the camps and the tower.

* * *

><p>Without the trees to dilute it, the rain came down upon them heavily. Alistair watched Elissa peer out across the great bridge, taking in a deep breath and bracing herself for the task ahead.<p>

Behind them a tower crumbled into pieces as one of the large flaming boulders launched from enemy catapults smashed into it. The bridge they were to cross was taking heavy hits as well. As he watched on, she peered out into the sea of bodies timing the blasts and trying to discern a pattern.

"Run, **now**!" she yelled suddenly, tugging at his arm insistently before sprinting out onto the bridge, winding her way through the archers and men manning ballistae, leaving him struggling to keep up.

Part of the bridge blew away behind them, taking several men and a ballista along with it into the gorge. Alistair stumbled for a moment as the stone beneath him trembled from the force of the impact.

"Faster!" Elissa cried, turning to look back over her shoulder, hair that had worked free from her bun plastered to the side of her face in the now torrential rain.

He pushed his body harder, managing to close the distance between them as she slowed seeing two men ahead when they reached the edge of the tower yard.

"You there! You're Grey Wardens, aren't you?" the guard yelled at their approach. "The tower… I-its been taken!"

"What are you talking about, man?" Alistair yelled, leaning heavily on his knees and trying to catch his breath from the run – noting that Elissa was breathing heavily beside him and even her hound seemed winded from the pace she had set for them. "Taken how?"

"The darkspawn came up through the lower chambers," he explained, the mage beside him nodding in confirmation. "They're everywhere! Most of our men are dead!"

"Doesn't matter." Elissa said, standing up and noting the horrified expressions of the two men at her ability to shake off such news. "The beacon must be lit, and it's up to us to ensure that happens.

Alistair nodded to her, standing up straight beside her.

"I cannot force you to come with us, but we must get to the top of the tower." Elissa explained to the guardsman and the mage. "Time is short, so come if you are going to."

With that she moved purposefully forward, the others falling in behind her. When she rounded the corner into a mass of darkspawn she stopped suddenly, almost doubling over as the pull of the taint in their shared blood hit her for the first time.

"Steady…" Alistair said, reaching out to offer her stability by holding tight to the backs of her elbows. "You're feeling the link in our tainted blood, it's how we're able to sense the darkspawn. It can be quite overwhelming until you adjust to the sensation."

"Is it always like that?" Elissa asked, rubbing at her sternum and fighting down a wave of nausea as she tried to silence the whispers that suddenly seemed to fill her head.

"For the most part, yes," he replied, shrugging sheepishly and releasing her onto more steady feet. "Though Duncan never looks as though he's about to be sick on his shoes so I imagine the vomity portion of it must go away at some point."

She squeezed his hand, smiling lightly before closing her eyes and rolling her neck and shoulders – finally releasing a deep breath.

"Alright, urge to vomit has been suppressed," she noted, opening her eyes and nodding to the rest of them. "Let's move along. These darkspawn aren't going to kill themselves."

The group fought their way through wave after wave of darkspawn, at least twenty or more, including another Alpha just outside the doors to the tower.

Though they came across many soldiers locked in battle with the monsters, they were unable to save any of the men – and lost one of their own group in the process, the guardsman falling under the arrows of several genlock archers just before they reached the tower doors.

* * *

><p>By the time they mounted the steps to the tower, Alistair could tell Elissa was fuming, the death of the guardsman bringing a simmering rage to a full out boil. She kicked the doors open with a muddy boot, storming through the them and into the entryway, finally coming to a stop when the entire room ahead of them burst into flame at their arrival.<p>

"I cannot read the taint yet… it's all... confused in my head." Elissa admitted, turning to Alistair with her brow knitted heavy in frustration. "Can you get a sense of what's in there, or how many?"

"Seven, eight maybe?" Alistair replied, reaching out in his mind. "As far as the what… mostly drones… yes, all drones."

"Right," she nodded, kneeling to speak instructions to Gladius. "Okay boy, run interference for me, just avoid the flaming bits." She scratched his great head, standing back up and turning her attention back to Alistair and the mage. "There is a trip wire just beyond the door. It's connected into some barrels nearby, which I'm fairly certain aren't filled with sunshine and puppies. Give me a second to put pressure on the wire so that you lot can pass over it safely, and then take out as many as you can. I'll join you as soon as the trap is properly disarmed."

Alistair nodded, and she disappeared through the door, dropping to her knees behind a post and pressing a hand down on the wire that spanned between it and the one nearby, motioning to them to pass over. He ran past, with her hound and the mage hot on his heels, leaving her to disarm the trap as a slew of Hurlock archers rained a hail of arrows down upon them.

As she stood from her project, she saw the Emissary enter from the rear entrance.

"Caster!" she yelled to Alistair, pointing with her longsword as she ran toward it.

Its hands glowed with green energy as it amassed the spell it was no doubt sending in her direction. Alistair's smite silenced it just before it cast, and Elissa took off its head with one great sweep of her blade, turning back to the room just in time to see Gladius take down the final archer.

With the threat eliminated, she finally took the time to look around. The bodies of the men who had been stationed in the tower lay in pieces all around them, some in piles, some on pikes, some desecrated in ways so unspeakable she could barely stomach it. Blood covered the floors, the walls, and the columns, some of them appeared to have been partially eaten.

They pushed forward through several barracks rooms holding similar amounts of darkspawn and their equally horrific alterations to the tower decor. In the room just before the stairs to the second floor, they came across the cavernous hole that the spawn had used to enter the tower. The smell that came out of it brought them all close to retching as they passed by the edge.

"Maker's breath! What are this many darkspawn doing separate from the rest of the horde?" Alistair asked, struggling to put the smell of that pit behind him as they made their way up to the second floor landing. "There wasn't supposed to be any resistance here."

"You could try telling them they're in the wrong place." Elissa quipped, wiping some of the blood off of her face with a gauntleted hand.

"Riiiiiight… because **clearly** this is all just a misunderstanding. We'll all laugh about it later…" he replied, chuckling lightly.

"Well, we might… they'll all be dead," she laughed, increasing their pace slightly. "Now let's get that beacon lit."

* * *

><p>The smile disappeared from her face the moment she hit the landing on the second floor, causing Alistair to brush past her seeking to find what had caused her such distress. In the middle of the floor was what had once been a statue of Andraste, now covered in blood and gore of unknown origin, twisted and remade into some kind of horrific totem. It was surrounded by a circle of pikes, which held the heads of many of the men who had fought to hold the tower, their dismembered torsos tossed into a pile near the wall. He moved to comfort her, but she held up a hand to keep him at arm's length, moving silently through the door into the adjoining rooms.<p>

"This way," she said, waving the group into a side room instead of out into the main hall.

Once they'd cleared out the two darkspawn that lurked inside, she moved them out the back door and up just beyond the edge of where they'd first entered the narrow room that brought them to where they now stood. From there they could see the large group of darkspawn that filled the great hall between them and the door to the third floor staircase.

"I have a plan." Elissa whispered, crouching down beside Alistair where he had taken up a hiding spot with the mage and Gladius behind a couple of downed bookshelves. "But you aren't going to like it."

"Let's hear it." Alistair replied.

"Do you see those ballistae out there?" she asked, motioning with her head to the two large machines positioned on either side of the hall just ahead of them.

"Those large wooden things with the pointy metal bits sticking out of them?" he asked sarcastically. "No, hadn't noticed them."

"Ha-ha, let's see how much you're laughing once you've heard the whole plan funny man." Elissa answered, rolling her eyes with a smile. "You three wait here, I'm going to go out there and take out as many as I can with those ballistae before they get past them."

"What? No!" Alistair hissed, shaking his head emphatically. "They'll see you as soon as you approach them."

"I have stealth…" she started.

"You told Daveth it wasn't strong enough to use…" he interrupted.

"Yes, well, Daveth is dead, so mine will have to do unless you have a better idea!" she snapped, glaring at him.

"I do not like this," he sighed, running his hands through his hair.

"I told you that you wouldn't," she replied. "But you do agree that this is the best option we have, do you not?"

"Yes," he relented, knowing that the only other plan involved running screaming into the bulk of them, and that wasn't much of a plan at all.

"Okay then," she nodded, turning her attention once again to her hound. "You stay with Alistair, move when he moves," then back to him and the mage, "I will yell when it's time."

She shook out her body, taking in a deep breath and then releasing it, allowing herself to relax into her shadow form. Alistair could see it was weak, as she herself had said, but would easily allow her enough cover to approach and arm the ballistae before alerting the darkspawn to her presence.

The group watched as she popped off two shots from each machine, decimating five or six of the spawn before signalling them to attack as the remaining creatures reached a point where the ballistae could no longer hit them. The four of them made easy work of those remaining, and were soon climbing the stairs to the third floor.

When they reached the third floor they found themselves sliding in the massive amounts of blood covering the floor, so thick in places the stone beneath it could no longer be identified. Naked half eaten corpses lined the edges of the room, piled as high as Alistair stood in some places. Elissa grimaced and pushed forward into the next room.

"It looks as though there are only two or three in there." Alistair said as they reached the door. "But I can sense a great many more nearby, and one of them is strong, likely an Alpha."

"There are still hounds in those kennels." Elissa replied. "I'm going to make a run for the lever that opens their cages. If there are as many as you say, we are going to need them."

He nodded, charging in to draw the attentions of the darkspawn in the room while she dashed over to the lever, releasing the mabari onto the unsuspecting monsters. As she moved out from between the now empty cages, she saw Alistair sweep the legs out from underneath the Alpha he had predicted was somewhere in the room, pushing his sword through its chest as another wave of spawn came flooding from the three barracks chambers just ahead of them.

With the added aid of the surviving mabari, the group cut a bloody swath through the remaining darkspawn and rushed up the last flight of stairs to the fourth floor, knowing they were running out of time to get the beacon lit for Loghain's soldiers.

* * *

><p>Alistair started sensing the massive wave of power that traveled across their tainted blood as they neared the top of the steps, but was unable to stop Elissa from barreling through the doors and into the beacon room before he could warn her of the danger. She skidded to a standstill just inside the archway, watching wide eyed as the largest darkspawn she had ever seen turned slowly from the body it was feasting on and roared at them in a rage.<p>

"Ogre!" Alistair yelled, shoving past her and charging in to draw its attention, her hound running hot on his heels.

She stood shaking for a moment, unable to move under the weight of the sensation of the taint pounding in her blood. She came back to her senses when she heard the crash of the ogre's claws braced against Alistair's shield and could tell he barely raised it in time to block the swipe.

The blow brought him to his knees, and he steeled himself for a second one, but it never came. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a blur whizz past him, a cloud of lilac perfume tickling his nose, drawing his eyes up to glance over the edge of his shield just in time to see Elissa's graceful form slide through the ogre's legs. Back arched and arms out behind her, she drew both blades across the monster's ankles and dropped it to its knees.

She bounced back to her feet behind it, spinning quickly and leaping onto its back, planting her sword and dagger on either side of the beast's spine, just between its shoulder blades, and using the hilts to hoist herself up onto its shoulders; effectively disabling its arms so that it could no longer use them to try and swipe her off.

It howled in pain and rage as she perched atop it, planting one foot on each side of its head and somehow managing to maintain her balance though it flailed its bloody injured body violently in an attempt to shake her off. She pulled her longsword free from its spine, raising it high above her head with both hands wound around the hilt, and bringing it down with all of her strength; forcing the blade straight down through the creature's skull. One last twist of the silenced its angry cries into a gurgling, sputtering hiss and ended the thrashing of its body.

She planted a foot on the back of its head, using it to maintain balance as its massive corpse dropped forward to the floor. When it hit the ground, she pressed the heel of her boot down, pulling her longsword free of its skull, then jumping off the body onto the stone floor. She made one final pass over the ogre's body to retrieve her dagger before moving over to Alistair, and offering him her hand to pull him back to his feet. It was only then he realized he had crouched there behind his shield watching her through the fight instead of doing anything useful.

"Are you alright?" she asked, eyeing him for injuries with great concern.

"F-fine," he sputtered, unable to wrap his mind around what he'd just seen, or how foolish he felt for having sat by rather than aiding her in her battle. "Have you done that before?"

"What? Fought an ogre?" she laughed, taking both of his hands in her own. "Absolutely! The forests of Highever were practically teeming with them… **no**, of course I haven't, you ninny!" she said sarcastically, helping him to rise from the floor.

"Then how did you know all that would work?" Alistair asked, his mind replaying how she had systematically taken the great brute apart with little effort.

"It's hard to explain... I... I just puzzle things out" Elissa offered, furrowing her brow as she tried to come up with an explanation that wouldn't make her appear either unbelievably crazy or incredibly arrogant "I observe a situation and puzzle out the optimal solution then execute it to the best of my ability. It was too tall for me to reach the vital areas so I cut the tendons which allowed it to stand, forcing it to a manageable height. Its arms were going to be a problem, so I disabled the nerves that allow them to function. Once I reached the head it was simple, really. Most things die if you take out the brain. I just had to manage the force necessary to push the blade through the skull, and that can be done with proper leverage."

"Daveth was right... you are unbelievably frightening at times..." he replied, shaking his head in disbelief and smiling.

"Have you seen the signal?" she asked, pulling his focus back to the task at hand.

"Oh, right!" Alistair said, suddenly remembering what they were there for and dashing over to one of the windows to verify what he instinctively already knew to be true. "It's there, light it."

She rushed over to the beacon fire and lit it, then moved back to Alistair's side where Gladius and the mage already stood. Below them nothing changed. No extra troops joined the fray, no battle tide shifted in their favor.

"I don't understand." Elissa gasped, growing panicked as she watched more darkspawn flooding in all around their already severely outnumbered men. "Were we too late? Where is Loghain?"

"I do not know…" Alistair replied, fear evident in his own words.

He started to say more when he heard a whistling in the air, followed by two dull thuds, and turned to ask Elissa if she had heard them. She made a strange noise, eyes widening in surprise as she reached over to press at the points of the two arrows that had just pierced through her back and now protruded through her shoulder, pulling away gloved fingers dripping with her blood. Alistair looked behind her with horrified eyes, watching as several more darkspawn flooded the room behind the one that had taken her down.

She vaguely remembered hearing someone telling her to hold on as she dropped to her knees, fighting to catch her breath through the pain. She saw the mage leaning over her through the haze and inspecting her injuries before an arrow to the temple removed him from the equation. She heard the growling of her hound for a moment, and then for the second time that day, her world went dark


	10. Chapter 10: Becoming Nothing

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_Sorry for the delay getting this one up. It's been a beast to work through and I ended up breaking it into two smaller chapters in the end, so hopefully I'll have two up here to make up for the lapse in updates! _

_Thanks again to all my followers, favers, readers and lurkers - and to my wonderful Lady Beta, **artemiskat**._

_On with the show :)_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Ten: Becoming Nothing<strong>_

A thick fog had settled in the forest of her dream-scape, shrouding things once comforting and familiar under its menacing shroud. Dark things lurked among the trees, hiding in shadow – all teeth and claws and glowing eyes – all hungry, all reaching out for her. She had been running hard for what seemed like days, and was no longer able to keep the pace of her frantic flight. She collapsed to her knees, sensing things closing in all around her; desperately calling out to the one person she always seemed to turn to…

"Nathaniel!" Elissa yelled, bolting upright in bed and reaching her shaking fingers up to grasp at the ring tied at her neck, dropping her the arm just as quickly and suppressing a groan when a stabbing pain shot through her with the motion.

"You have called that name a great many times in your fever…" a sultry voice whispered, and Elissa spun to see the raven-haired witch she had met in the Wilds a few days ago standing beside her, inspecting her with curious eyes.

"Morrigan?" Elissa asked, her eyes looking wildly around the inside of the ramshackle shack in which Morrigan and her Mother had taken up residence, and noting she had been stripped down to her small clothes and tucked into a small uncomfortable bed.

"Ah, your eyes finally open, Mother will be pleased," the witch laughed, offering her a half smile. "How does your memory fare? Do you remember Mother's rescue?"

"I-I…" Elissa stuttered, rubbing at her temple with the hand on her uninjured arm and noting the bandages on that shoulder were still lightly stained with blood. "I have a vague recollection of being swarmed by darkspawn… after that… nothing."

"Mother managed to save you, and your friend, though 'twas a close call." Morrigan explained, walking over to retrieve her armor and weapons from a nearby chest, then turning back to her. "What is important is that you both live. The man who was to respond to your signal, quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle. Those he abandoned were massacred, save yourself and one other… and, your friend… he is not taking it well."

"My friend?" Elissa asked, reaching over to take her accoutrements from the other woman, her brows knitting in confusion for a moment as she fought to recover her memories. "You mean Alistair?"

"The suspicious dim-witted one who was with you before, yes," the witch responded, rolling her eyes and stalking over to a nearby table where she began fiddling with various poultices and potions. "He is outside by the fire with Mother. She asked to see you when you awoke."

"Why does she need to see me?" Elissa mused, more to herself than to the woman's daughter – rising gingerly from the bed and beginning to redress herself. "I'm certain Alistair is perfectly capable of answering any questions she would have."

"I do not know her reasons." Morrigan responded, chuckling with slight irritation - whether at her words or her mother's reluctance to share information she did not know. "She rarely tells me her plans."

"Were my injuries severe?" Elissa asked, running her fingers over the edges of her bandage before setting to work strapping on her breast plate and trying to ignore the two gaping holes in back and front where the arrows had penetrated it. "My shoulder is a bit tender, but otherwise I feel… surprisingly well considering the two arrows I distinctly remember being lodged there."

"They were quite severe, and you lost a great deal of blood, but I expect you shall be fine now," the witch assured her, reaching her fingers under the edge of the bandage and rubbing a bit of salve at the larger of the two scars before Elissa had fully secured her armor. "The darkspawn did no damage that Mother could not heal."

"What about Alistair? Was he injured?" she questioned, knowing the apostate bore no love for her friend but needing to be reassured that he had managed to make it through the ordeal at least as unscathed as she.

"He is… as you are… physically healed." Morrigan answered, her brows knitting as she met the other woman's eyes reluctantly. "I suppose it would be unkind to say he is being childish."

"Alistair can be a bit… dramatic…" Elissa admitted, sighing heavily as she remembered his frustration at being excluded from the main battle – something that, in retrospect, had no doubt saved both of their lives. "But he has lost everything he knew in the blink of an eye. I know that feeling all too well. It is difficult to remain focused in the face of it."

"And yet **you** remain focused…" Morrigan said, watching the other woman carefully with her golden eyes.

"Ha!" Elissa laughed, sitting down on the bed and buckling her boots back on. "Perhaps I just choose to be unfocused when no one is looking."

"Perhaps…" the witch chuckled in response, leaning against a nearby table and crossing her arms over her chest.

"I have a question, if you don't mind." Elissa continued, hoping that her polite request would encourage the prickly apostate to speak freely.

"I do not mind." Morrigan said, with another half smile. "Take your time."

"Are we safe here? It seems that taking refuge in the midst of wilderness teeming with tainted monstrosities might not be the best place to recuperate." Elissa noted, standing and reaching for her blades, anchoring each sheath at her back with expert fingers. "Where are the darkspawn?"

"I assure you, we are safe here… for the moment," the witch answered, watching the other woman pace over to her bow and quiver where they leaned against the wall. "Mother's magic keeps the darkspawn away. Once you leave, 'tis uncertain what will happen. The horde has moved on, so you might avoid it."

"How on earth did your Mother even to rescue us? From what little I recall, we were stranded at the top of that tower and completely surrounded…" Elissa queried, buckling the straps of her quiver just underneath her bust line. "More importantly, **why** did she feel the need to? Alistair and I were certainly not the most important people on the field of battle, not when she could have saved the King and Warden-Commander much more easily."

"Mother claims she turned into a giant bird and plucked the two of you from the top of the tower, one in each talon. If you do not believe that tale, then I suggest you ask her yourself… she may even tell you." Morrigan laughed, watching the incredulity etch into the other woman's face as she slung her bow over her shoulder. "As to the **why** portion of your question, I wonder at that myself. But, as I said, Mother rarely makes her plans known to me... but I am certain she has one… she always does."

"Well, I have taken up enough of your time with my silly questions." Elissa quipped, strolling over to the door and trying **not** to think about the elderly witch's plans and how she and Alistair might fit into them. "Thank you for helping me, Morrigan."

"I… you are welcome," the witch replied, startled at the sincerity in the other woman's voice. "Mother did most of the work. I am no healer."

Elissa smiled sincerely, pushing the door open and stepping out into the swamp in which the apostates had made their home. She was very nearly flattened by her hound as she pressed the door shut behind her, the great beast bounding over, and desperately licking at her face and hands as he echoed happy barks and whines into the surrounding trees.

* * *

><p>"See! Here is your fellow Grey Warden," the old woman said, her attention drawn away from her inspection of the swampy landscape by the hounds' excitement. "You worry too much, young man."<p>

"You… you're alive!" Alistair choked out, his words almost a whisper as he strode over to her, reaching up to cup her face with both hands and stroking lightly at her temples with his thumbs. "When I saw those arrows… I-I wasn't sure you'd make it."

"Silly… it takes more than a few darkspawn to kill me." Elissa replied, smiling up at him and trying to fight down the blush threatening to creep into her face at his tender touch on her skin and the way he was looking at her as though she were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes upon.

"Duncan's dead… the rest of the Grey Wardens… the King… they're all dead," he said, his voice low and broken, the amber of his eyes swimming with unshed tears as he released her face and moved away, staring into the distance. "This doesn't seem real. If it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead in that tower just as sure as the others."

"Do not speak of me as if I am not present, lad," the old woman snapped, drawing both Wardens' out of their private reunion and focusing their attention back on her.

"I-I didn't mean…" Alistair started, waving his hands about and trying to undo the damage he had somehow managed to do with his poorly chosen words. "But what do we call you? You never told us your name."

"Names are pretty, but useless," the old woman replied, looking pointedly to Elissa who arched an eyebrow in response, wondering why that comment should be directed at her. "The Chaisnd folk call me Flemeth. I suppose that will do."

"You're **the** Flemeth! From the Legends of old?" Elissa gasped, her mind running back to the things the old woman had just **known** when last they met – if this woman was indeed Flemeth, that knowledge and those predictions were all the more haunting.

"Daveth was right, you're the Witch of the Wilds, aren't you?" Alistair asked, his eyes wide in surprise and awe.

"And what does that mean?" Flemeth snorted, her features growing cross. "I know a bit of magic and it has served you both well, has it not?"

"If you **are** Flemeth, then you must be very old and exceptionally powerful." Elissa noted, eyeing the old woman cautiously and thinking that suddenly Morrigan's story of her mother's talon-toting rescue no longer seemed implausible.

"Must I?" Flemeth replied, arching an eyebrow at the young woman. "Age and power are relative. The answer is dependent on who is asking the question, and when it is being asked. Compared to you, in **this **moment, yes – on both counts."

"In this moment? What do you…" Elissa began, narrowing her eyes and stepping closer to the witch before Alistair's voice interrupted them.

"If you are so powerful, then why didn't you save Duncan?" Alistair asked, confusion crossing his face along with the pain of his loss. "He is… he **was **our leader."

"Duncan's destiny was already written, even I cannot change some things." Flemeth answered, and the two Wardens could see that the sentiment she offered was sincere. "I am sorry for your Duncan, but your grief must come later," she finished, turning her focus once again to Elissa. "In the shadows… before you take vengeance, as my mother used to say. Duty must come first now."

Elissa shivered, it was truly as though this woman could read her very soul.

"Is that why you saved us?" Elissa asked, refusing to allow herself to show how much Flemeth's words were effecting her. "For our duty?"

"We cannot have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, can we?" Flemeth answered, chuckling slightly. "Someone has to deal with these darkspawn. It has always been the Grey Wardens' duty to unite the lands against the Blight. Or did that change when I wasn't looking?"

"It changed when most of them were slaughtered." Elissa snapped, suddenly realizing that the woman actually believed that she and Alistair were capable of stopping something an entire army had died in the face of.

"If you think small numbers make you helpless, then you are already defeated," the old woman responded, her voice low and foreboding. "And **you** have already survived the impossible, not once, but twice. I would think something such as that would make it clear you have a far bigger part to play when all is said and done."

Elissa knew Alistair's eyes were on her. She had watched him turn her way when Flemeth revealed more of her past, but she ignored him and remained focused on getting what information she could from the witch before the conversation dissolved into riddles and misdirection as it had before.

"Surviving once, perhaps, surviving multiple times... well, now let's just say I get the distinct impression the Universe is hellbent on orchestrating my demise." she mumbled ruefully, clearing her throat and pulling the focus back off of her personal life and onto the issue at hand "Before all this happened, The Wardens had been fighting the darkspawn with King Cailan successfully, and would have easily seen victory again at Ostagar were it not for…" Elissa said, pushing her hands up into her hair in frustration. "I just can't wrap my mind around why Loghain would **do** this?"

"Now **that** is a good question!" Flemeth noted, her face lighting up with a smile as she looked on the young woman before her with something akin to pride in her eyes. "Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature. Perhaps he believes the Blight is an army he can outmaneuver. Perhaps he does not see the evil **behind** it is the true threat."

"The Archdemon." Alistair interjected, his voice almost a whisper.

"If this Archdemon is the root of the problem, then we need to locate it… and remove it from the equation." Elissa postulated, raising her head and worrying with the trinket beneath her breastplate as she thought.

"By ourselves!" Alistair spat, shaking his head at her easy assertion in frustration, before beginning to pace frantically. "No Warden has **ever** defeated a Blight without the army of a half dozen nations at their back. Not to mention I don't know **how**."

"How to kill the Archdemon or how to raise an army? It seems to me those are two different questions." Flemeth queried, inspecting the elder of the two Wardens carefully. "Have the Wardens no allies these days?"

Elissa's features softened as she watched her fellow Warden pacing by the swamp's edge, his handsome features drawn and strained as he tried to decide what should be done. It was then she realized how highly stacked the odds against them were. They were completely alone, and only newly made in the Wardens image, Alistair having taken his Joining only six months prior to her own. They had no idea what was even required of them when it came to stopping a Blight, much less how to accomplish it.

Her mind began to race, struggling to recall any useful information she had managed to assimilate during her brief time with Duncan, trying to pull forth any scrap of information that might be useful to them.

"I-I…. Don't know…" Alistair admitted, his voice breaking again as the witch turned from him back to Elissa as though she would have the answers.

"Well don't look at me! Alistair is the senior Warden here, if he doesn't know, then I certainly don't!" Elissa hissed, pinching at the bridge of her nose and trying to will away the headache building there.

"All the Grey Wardens in Ferelden are gone now except for us! I've lost **everything**!" Alistair snapped, stomping over to her and grabbing her shoulders angrily, his long fingers biting painfully into the wound beneath them. "For the love of the Maker, don't back out on me now!"

"I just lost my entire family, my friends, **and** the man who saved my life. Don't you **dare** speak to me of loss as though I do not understand it!" Elissa hissed, reaching up to throw his arms loose from her, then wincing in pain from the strain on her injured shoulder.

"You, of all people, should see that if we do nothing, all those we lost, all of these deaths will be in vain… and I cannot allow that." Alistair pleaded, his eyes both furious and fearful. "But I can do nothing alone. I need you with me, please."

"I'm not abandoning you, Alistair." Elissa sighed, the passion and choice of his words making her heart ache. "I simply do not have the answers… we should contact the rest of the Grey Wardens, find **someone** who actually does have them."

"The King already summoned them." Alistair replied, shaking his head wearily. "They will come if they can, but after… I would expect that Loghain has already taken steps to ensure they do not arrive. We should assume that they won't get here in time."

"It all comes back here, doesn't it? To Loghain…" Elissa mused, chewing at her bottom lip in thought. "What could he possibly hope to gain by betraying Cailan this way?"

"The throne? He **is** the queen's father." Alistair answered, running his hand through his hair. "Still, I can't see how he expects to get away with murder once people discover what happened here."

"You speak as if he would be the first king to gain his throne in such a way, and to do so uncontested." Flemeth barked, her laughter a hard sound. "Grow up, boy!"

"If Arl Eamon knew what he did, he would never stand for it!" Alistair snapped, facing off against the witch for a moment before thinking better of the idea and turning away. "The Landsmeet would never stand for it! It would be Civil War."

"You believe the Arl would believe us over the bloody** Hero** of the River Dane?" Elissa laughed, rubbing at her eyes in disbelief. "We are nothing. Our words are meaningless."

"You are far from nothing, both of you." Flemeth said, watching the two of them inspect each other with curious eyes at her words, before pulling back to their own personal musings. "And I suspect that your words will carry far more weight than you may believe."

"I can't say that he will believe us for certain, but I cannot believe that he would not at least hear us out before making a decision." Alistair offered, starting to pace again. "Eamon wasn't at Ostagar, so he still has all his men. He was Cailan's uncle, so his loss was great. I know him well. He is a good man, and his voice is respected in Ferelden and in the Landsmeet. We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help."

"You should remember that both of us would have thought Loghain to be a good man prior to his betrayal at Ostagar." Elissa warned, knowing he would fight her but needing him to hear her words and understand just how important caution would be from this moment forward. After having been on the receiving end of both Howe and Loghain's treacherous misdeeds, she was hesitant to trust anyone ever again.

"Eamon would **never** do what Loghain did!" Alistair insisted vehemently, shaking his hands about emphatically as he spoke. "I know him too well. But even if we managed to gain his support, his armies alone would not be enough to turn the battle against the darkspawn in our favor."

"Surely there are other allies we can call on?" Elissa said, more to herself than anyone.

"Now **there** is a smart lass!" Flemeth said brightly, and as Elissa raised her eyes to the old woman realization dawned on her face.

"Of course!" she said, flipping her pack around and starting to dig through it tossing things about violently until she found what she was looking for. "The treaties! Grey Wardens can demand aid from dwarves, elves, mages and other places during a Blight! They're obligated to help us, and I still have these!"

Alistair's face lit as he stopped mid pace and stormed over to where she stood, reaching to take the treaties and look them over.

"I may be old, but dwarves, elves, mages, this… Arl Eamon… and who knows what else…" Flemeth chuckled, eyeing the pair with amusement. "This sounds like an army to me."

"So, can we do this?" Alistair asked, sounding and feeling hopeful for the first time since Elissa had lain eyes upon him again. "Go to Redcliffe and all the other places and… build an army?"

"I doubt it will be as easy as that." Elissa replied, not wanting to crush his spirit, but unable to ignore the size of the task laid out before them.

"When is it ever?" Flemeth chortled.

"It's always been a Grey Warden's duty to stand against a Blight." Alistair said, handing the treaties back to the younger Warden and holding onto her hands for a moment. "Right now, **we** are the Grey Wardens. If we don't do it, no one will."

"I know you're right Alistair, it's just…" Elissa started, but faltered when she finally forced herself to meet his eyes and saw what was burning there - hope and perseverance and a true belief they were actually capable of pulling it off. "Oh, Maker… we're really going to do this, aren't we? Raise an army, start a war? I must have truly gone insane!"

Taking her response as a yes, Alistair suddenly grabbed her in his arms and spun her around, hugging her against him tightly. She couldn't stifle the giggle that rumbled out of her at the sensation, before he sat her down on the ground again. He looked down at her, smiling, hesitant to let go. Her eyes were sparkling, and she was alive, and he somehow believed with her at his side they could manage this impossible task ahead of them.

"So, you're set then…" Flemeth's voice interrupted, and she watched with great amusement as Alistair blushed to the roots of his hair and quickly released and moved away from his fellow Warden. "Ready to be Grey Wardens?"

"Yes, Flemeth." Elissa replied, fighting a slight blush of her own and thinking how utterly adorable Alistair looked when he was mortified at his own behavior. "Thank you, for everything."

"No, no… thank **you**, you are the Grey Wardens here, not I." Flemeth replied, watching as Elissa replaced all of the items she had hastily tossed from her pack and anchored it back behind her again. "Now, before you go, there is yet one more thing I can offer you."

"The stew is bubbling, Mother dear." Morrigan's voice rang out, Elissa turned to watch the sultry young witch emerge from the hut behind them. "Shall we have two guests for the eve, or none?"

"The Grey Wardens are leaving shortly, girl." Flemeth explained, eying her daughter with a smirk. "And you will be joining them."

"Such a shame…" Morrigan began, clearly not at all upset they were leaving – but suddenly losing the smirk and the attitude when the remainder of her mother's words sank in. "What?"

"You heard me! The last time I looked you had ears!" Flemeth said, laughing heartily.

"Thank you, Flemeth." Elissa said, noticing the trepidation etched into the usually impassive witch's features. "But if Morrigan doesn't want to join us…"

"Her magic will be useful." Flemeth insisted, waving off her arguments with the flick of an ancient gnarled wrist. "Even better, she knows the Wilds and how to get around the horde."

"Have I no say in this?" Morrigan spat, looking back and forth between the two women so content to discuss her fate as though she was not there.

"You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years! Here is your chance," the old woman said in acknowledgement, before turning back to the Wardens. "As for you, Wardens, consider this repayment for your lives."

"Why do I get the feeling this was your plan all along?" Elissa said, eyes narrowing again as she inspected the elder witch.

"Pardon me, but I had the impression you needed assistance, whatever the form." Flemeth replied, narrowing her own eyes dangerously in response.

"Not to look a gift witch in the mouth… so to speak…" Alistair cautiously interrupted, trying to diffuse the tension carried in the glares passing between the two women. "But won't this add to our problems? Out of the Wilds, your daughter is an apostate…"

"If you are so hesitant to take help from us **illegal witches**," Flemeth snapped, turning her glare onto the former Templar, "perhaps I should have left you in that tower after all."

"Point… taken…" Alistair answered, cowering quickly under her fury.

"Mother… this is not how I wanted this…" Morrigan began, her face taking on a distinct air of sadness that was not missed by her new companions to be. "I am not even ready!"

"You must be ready!" Flemeth insisted, brushing off her hesitation with an impatient flourish of her hand. "Alone, these two must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn. They will need you, Morrigan. Without you, I fear they will surely fail, and all will perish beneath the surging tide of the Blight. Even I."

"I… understand." Morrigan replied, caving beneath the weight of her mother's words.

"And you? Do you understand?" Flemeth said, turning once again to Elissa. "I give you that which I value above all else in the world, and I do this because you must succeed. If you fail at the task laid out before you, then all of Ferelden – at the very least – shall fall."

"So long as I live, she will not come to harm with us." Elissa pledged, meeting the older witch's eyes with an intensity that put a smile back onto her face.

"Allow me to gather my things if you please." Morrigan said, disappearing for a moment into the rickety hut, and then reappearing with a pack of her own and moving back to Elissa's side. "Farewell Mother, do not forget the stew on the fire. I would hate to return to a burned down hut." The younger witch snipped.

"Bah! 'Tis far more likely you will return to see this entire area, along with my hut, swallowed up by the Blight!" Flemeth retorted, crossing her arms.

"I… all I meant was…" Morrigan replied, cowed by her mother's words.

"Yes, I know." Flemeth smiled, patting her daughter on the arm one last time. "Do **try** to have some fun dear."

Moments later, three humans and a dog, suddenly tasked with the fate of an entire nation, stumbled wearily into the Wilds. Elissa turned back one last time as they reached the crest of the nearby hill, meeting the elder witch's eyes and exchanging a curt nod before disappearing into the trees.


	11. Chapter 11: Pretty As A Picture

_**Disclaimer: **Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** Another long one! _

_Extra special kudos to my Lady Beta, **artemiskat**, on this one for suggesting the perfect chapter break so I didn't overwhelm you guys with my wordiness! _

_I will be traveling on this coming Monday, so I hope that two extra long chapters will tide you over until I can update again!_

_All comments, constructive criticism, questions and suggestions are welcome! Thanks to all of you :) _

_-Frayed One_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Eleven: Pretty As A Picture<strong>_

They walked in silence for a quite some time, the heavy tension between the unlikely companions broken only by the sound of their footsteps as they trudged through the soggy marsh and the occasional barking from Elissa's hound who bounded happily around his mistress' feet. As they moved deeper into the Wilds, Morrigan finally decided she could take no more of it, and reached out to the flame-haired woman beside her in conversation.

"Once we get out of the Wilds, I suggest making a stop at a nearby village." Morrigan said, watching as the other woman's emerald eyes turned from their almost constant scans of the nearby wilderness and focused on her. "'Tis not far from where we are, and we will find much we need."

"You mean Lothering?" Elissa asked, tossing the stick she'd picked up and watching Gladius tearing off in pursuit of it.

"I believe that is its name." Morrigan nodded, impressed that she had known enough of the area's geography to name such a small insignificant town. "'Tis only a suggestion. If my input is not wanted, I shall simply remain a silent guide. I am at your disposal."

"No, I would prefer you speak your mind." Elissa insisted, waving off the notion that the other woman would be forced into silence as though it was a ridiculous thought. "You are not here as our servant, Morrigan. You are a companion for this journey, and thus I will always take your advice under consideration. I know, as you said, this is not how you wanted it - but you are here with us now, and I want you to feel that you are a part of things as much as any of us are."

"You will regret saying that…" Alistair mumbled under his breath from the spot he had taken up slightly behind them, watching as not one but **both** of his female travelling companions turned to him with an irritable glare – forcing him to bound up to Elissa's other side to try and explain. "I just… should we **really** have taken her along simply because her mother **told** us to?"

"We need all the help we can get, Alistair." Elissa sighed, rubbing at the bridge of her nose in frustration and dipping to retrieve and throw Gladius' stick again. "You **really** have got to let go of this whole mage issue. We are going to have to work with many people, mages included, if we are to succeed with this nonsensical quest that has somehow been dropped in our laps. It is time to accept that you are no longer a Templar, and embrace the Warden you have become."

"I guess you're right…" Alistair admitted, grimacing in shame as the truth in her words sank in. "The Grey Wardens have always taken allies where they can find them."

"I am **so** pleased to **finally** have your approval." Morrigan snipped, rolling her eyes at him across the plane of Elissa's body. "To show my thanks, I promise that whenever I make the decision summon demons and turn into an abomination – I will make sure that you aren't looking."

"I feel better already." Alistair intoned, his words dripping in sarcasm as they slid from between his clenched teeth.

"**So**…. Lothering…" Elissa said loudly, hoping her interruption and concurrent glare for each of them would push the point that she was quickly growing tired of their bickering. "You said there were merchants there, is there anything else of consequence, or is this just a stop to build our supplies?"

"We can replenish our supplies, 'tis true, but I mention it mainly for its tavern." Morrigan explained, the tension easing as she focused back on the other woman and once again ignored Alistair. "Travellers gather there often with news from across Ferelden. The town is well travelled enough that our appearance may go unnoticed while we gather information that may be useful to us as we choose our next destination."

"So you have travelled there before?" Elissa asked, scratching at her hound's head for a moment and then tossing his stick again.

"I have been there from time to time, watched its people and pondered what curious beings they are. On occasion, I purchased goods from the village merchants." Morrigan explained. "I would have gone more often were it not for the town's Chantry. It makes the village particularly intolerant and unpleasant for a stranger such as me."

"A chantry?" Alistair laughed, incredulously – ignoring the warning glare from his fellow Warden as he proceeded to shove his foot right back in his mouth. "And they never, in all this time, thought that maybe… just **maybe** you were a witch?"

"Of course they have!" Morrigan retorted, her golden eyes narrowing in anger before she raised her chin haughtily. "They even called out their Templars once, but they found nothing!"

"I am certain if we keep Morrigan clear of the Chantry, we can avoid any trouble." Elissa insisted, trying to ease the tension again. "It will be good to replenish the supplies I went through at Ostagar, plus we won't make it far without knowing where we're going… and we can't decide where we're going without knowing what's going on out there."

"Agreed." Morrigan said, smirking at the former Templar and feeling as though she had won a victory in gaining the other woman's approval of her suggestion.

"Getting there could be problematic though…" Elissa continued, looking over to the young witch and watching her brow knit in response to what she saw as doubt of her abilities before Elissa raised a hand in placation. "I'm not saying you aren't capable, Morrigan… I just wonder how you're going to get us past the darkspawn."

"The real question is how we're going to get **him** past them." Morrigan said, inclining her head at Alistair with a frown. "Is it not?"

"I don't understand…" Elissa replied, turning confused eyes to her fellow Warden.

"She's right. The taint allows us to sense the darkspawn, but it also allows them to sense us." Alistair explained, suddenly realizing how very little she understood of what was happening to her – she had only been a Warden for a few hours before their entire world had fallen apart. "The taint is so new in you, they likely will not react to it at all – but they will easily be able to track me."

"I don't sense any now, and trust me… I would notice." Elissa said, grimacing as she recalled how hard it had been not to collapse to the ground and bring up everything she'd ever eaten the first time she felt it pulling inside her.

"It will take time for you to be able to sense them at this range, and for them to be able to sense you as they can me." Alistair continued to explain. "Smaller groups should be easy to sneak past, but larger ones or particularly intelligent darkspawn will always sense us, and will be drawn like a moth to a flame."

"Do not worry, Mother has given me something else for them to… smell, I suppose is the best way to put it, as we pass by." Morrigan assured them. "As long as we continue heading out of the Wilds instead of further in, they should not be a problem."

"So, the horde is camped in the midst of the Korcari Wilds?" Elissa said, her eyebrow arching in contemplation.

"They come from underground, like an eruption." Morrigan explained, suddenly feeling sorry for this young woman tasked with such an impossible task and seeming not even to have a basic knowledge of the enemy she was pitted against. "They must have broken through somewhere deep within the forest, and that remains where they are most concentrated."

"I see…" Elissa noted, chewing at her lip and trying to process the wealth of information she had just received.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Gladius return the stick to Alistair, who took it and threw it back out in an almost automatic response, and she couldn't keep the smile from taking over her face. While her mabari would follow her orders to stay with anyone she commanded, he had always been slow to voluntarily attach himself to new people, yet - he had taken an immediate liking to Alistair.

"I know that you are a mage, **obviously**, but do you have other… skills, I suppose is the word I'm looking for?" Elissa asked, clearing her throat and quickly tearing her eyes away from Alistair when he realized she was watching him and raised an eyebrow, smirking in response. "I'm not trying to be offensive, I'm just trying to take stock of what we have covered and what we will have to **get** covered for self-sustaining purposes in the future."

"No offence taken, 'tis important that we take stock of what we all bring to the table." Morrigan agreed with a distinct nod. "I know many spells, though I am nowhere near as powerful as Mother - and I am no healer, **that** is for sure. I do have an extensive knowledge of herpetology and potions, and have studied quite a bit of your history along with the treaties you now carry."

"Can you cook?" Alistair asked, realizing as the words left his mouth just how it sounded and how likely he was to be reprimanded by the two women in response.

"I… **can** cook… yes…" Morrigan replied, narrowing her eyes as her fury began to build again.

"Then you can substitute for Alistair." Elissa whispered, leaning over to the other woman conspiratorially and hoping an explanation would quickly douse the flames of her anger. "I have heard tales of the legendary awfulness of his…um… cuisine."

"Riiiiight…." Alistair nodded, squinting at his fellow Warden but unable to suppress his own smile of relief that she saved him from the witch's scathing tongue so easily. "My cooking will kill us, that's really all I meant."

"I **also **know at least fifteen different poisons that grow right here in this marsh!" Morrigan said cheerily, smirking her mirthless smile at him. "Not that I would suggest 'tis at all related to… **cooking**."

"That's not the least bit unsettling…" Alistair mumbled, scratching at the back of his neck and quickly removing himself from the conversation by jogging ahead to toss the stick for Gladius once again.

* * *

><p>As they reached the outskirts of Lothering, debris from wagons and crates started to litter the sides of the long forgotten stretch of the Imperial Highway. Elissa started to wonder if the darkspawn had already ravaged the area, only realizing what was actually going on when she spied several armed men who spread across the road just ahead of them – effectively blocking entrance to the city.<p>

"Wake up, Gentlemen, more travellers to attend to!" the one Elissa took to be their leader said, bringing all the others to attention as the newcomers approached. "I'd guess the pretty redhead is the leader."

"Err… they don't look much like them others, you know," one of the other men stuttered, fearfully inspecting their little party. "Uh… maybe we should just let these ones pass."

"Nonsense!" the leader insisted, waving off the other man's concerns and turning his attention fully to Elissa. "Greetings, traveller."

"Highwaymen, preying on the people fleeing the darkspawn, I suppose." Alistair hissed, shaking his head in disgust.

"They are fools to get in our way!" Morrigan hissed, crossing her arms menacingly and glaring at them. "I say we teach them a lesson."

"Now, now… is that any way to greet someone?" the leader asked, clearly underestimating the group of people standing before him. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. A simple ten silvers is all we require, then you're free to move on."

"You really should listen to your friend." Elissa stated, her posture and tone of voice setting her hound growling at the men without her even lifting a finger to command him. "We are no refugees."

"What did I tell you?" the fearful one insisted, turning worried eyes to the mabari and beginning to back away. "No wagons, no crates, and these two look to be well… **armed**… not to mention the angry dog."

"The toll applies to **everyone**, Hanric," the leader hissed, glaring him into silence and stillness. "That's why it's called a toll, and not, say… a refugee tax."

"Oh! Right!" the fearful one answered, feeling more confident for some unknown reason – stupidity being the most likely reason, Elissa assumed. "Even if you're not a refugee, you still gotta pay."

"Forget it, no one here is paying you anything." Elissa retorted, crossing her arms and tilting her chin up defiantly.

Alistair shifted uncomfortably behind her while her hound continued to growl angrily and Morrigan's smile widened.

"Well… I can't say I'm pleased to hear that…" the bandit leader said, shaking his head and unsheathing his weapons. "We have rules you know."

"We get to ransack your corpse," the other one said, releasing his blade as well – and signalling the others to do the same. "Thems the rules."

"You are certainly welcome to try!" Elissa hissed, her eyes flashing dangerously as she set Gladius into motion and dodged the leader's initial swipe while unsheathing her own blades.

Alistair barrelled into one of the men, while Morrigan tossed out several quite effective curses, and a few seconds later Elissa held the leader on his knees at the point of her sword.

"Call. Off. Your. Dogs." she hissed, pressing the point hard enough into his skin to establish she meant business. "I do not wish to shed your blood, but I will do so if I have to." She watched as he held a hand up and all the other bandits dropped their weapons and placed themselves at the mercy of her companions. "Good, now that I have your attention, I am going to explain what is going to happen here. You and your little group of miscreants are going to leave this village, **immediately**, and never return."

"You… you're going to let us go?" the leader said, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"I am going to assume that you simply… made the wrong career choice, for the moment." Elissa explained, shrugging her shoulders slightly and listening to Morrigan's sigh of complaint in response to her mercy. "I am **also** going to assume that you will **never** make such a mistake again."

"I hear that the fur trade is picking up," the leader offered, shakily getting to his feet as she re-sheathed her blades, then gathering his men and moving quickly away from the town.

"Oh, one more thing," Elissa said, watching the leader's shoulders drop and tense as he turned back to her, "I'll need to reclaim what you've taken so that I can insure it is redistributed to those in need."

He shook his head, angrily digging in his pocket and tossing the heavy coin purse over to her before turning back to his departure. She tossed it up into the air, feeling the weight of it as it came back down into her hand, before grinning and tossing it into her pack. When she looked up, Alistair was smiling at her in a way that made her blush and turn away, moving them forward into the town.

"Well, here it is… Lothering" he said, stopping as they reached the top of the stairs leading down into the village and trying **not** to continue thinking about how amazing his fellow Warden was turning out to be. "Pretty as a picture."

"Ah, so you've finally decided to rejoin us, have you?" Morrigan snipped, having noted the silence he had fallen into shortly after they began their journey. "Falling on your sword in grief seemed like too much trouble for you to manage after such lengthy contemplation, I take it."

"Is my being upset so hard for you to understand?" Alistair bellowed angrily in response. "Have you **never** lost anyone important to you? What would you do if your mother died?"

"Before or after I stopped laughing?" Morrigan replied, crossing her arms – wondering how he could be so whiny while his fellow Warden remained so strong under an even heavier burden… weren't men supposed to be the stronger of the sexes?

"Right, very creepy, forget I asked…" Alistair replied, rubbing his brow in frustration.

"You **have** been very quiet…" Elissa interrupted, trying to ease the tensions once again, and willing to broach the topic she had been thinking on herself now that Morrigan had mentioned it.

"Yes, I know I was just… thinking" he answered, looking away from her concern - clearly not ready to discuss it.

"No wonder it took so long…" Morrigan mumbled, chuckling to herself.

"Oh, I get it." Alistair growled, his voice low with anger. "This is the part where we are all shocked to discover you've never had a friend in your entire life!"

"I can be friendly, when I desire to be!" Morrigan screeched in response, taking a step closer to him before Elissa positioned herself and her hound to act as a barrier between them. "Alas, desiring to be more intelligent does not make it so."

"Yes, yes, I'm horribly stupid…" Alistair grumbled, turning his attention back to Elissa. "But really, I stopped us because I thought we should talk about where we intend to go first – before we go any further."

"I think Morrigan is right to assume that hearing the news from the realm would be wise before actually making any decisions on where we should travel first. We don't know what's out there for us – and I don't like going into any situation blind if I can help it." Elissa replied, scratching at Gladius' head absently. "I also need to decide where to look for Fergus. He may still be alive, and I cannot abandon him if there is any hope he survived the slaughter at Ostagar."

"He was out scouting in the Wilds, isn't that what the King said?" Alistair recollected, seeing the pain flowing heavily in her eyes at the mention of her only remaining family member.

"If he is in the Wilds, attempting to look for him would be foolish." Morrigan insisted, watching as Elissa's emerald eyes turned to her golden ones with a slight flash of anger. "He is either dead, or somehow managed to flee to the north, and either way you would be unlikely to find him."

"**Very** sensitive…" Alistair hissed, glaring at the witch and watching Elissa clench her eyes shut against the thought of her brother being lost or injured and somewhere out of her reach.

"I am simply saying that it is foolish to mount a rescue when you have no notion where this, Fergus, is... in the Wilds... that are overrun by darkspawn." Morrigan explained, ignoring Alistair's warning. "You will either find him somewhere outside of the area with the other survivors… or… not at all."

"I cannot believe you would suggest that I shouldn't look for him, simply because he might be difficult to find!" Elissa yelled, actually losing her temper in response to the other woman's callous choice of words for the first time since they'd met.

"That's **exactly** what I am suggesting!" Morrigan yelled back, not backing down for a moment, though she did not relish the idea of angering her one supporter – she was only thinking of the other woman's safety. "If you wish to do this brother of yours a service then avenge him! The time to look for survivors must come later."

"As much as I hate to admit it… and trust me, I **really** do… Morrigan is probably right." Alistair said, watching as Elissa's frustrated eyes turned to him in disbelief, not only that the two were actually agreeing on something - but that the something was her desire to find her brother. "Addressing the treaties is probably the best thing we could do. Have you had a chance to look at them?"

"I have." Elissa replied, sighing heavily as she realized they were never going to support her need to search for her brother, and trying to subdue her angst and refocus her energy where it was needed. "They don't give us much more to go on than a basic idea of what groups we have to choose from as destinations. We have promises of aid from the Dalish Elves, the Dwarves of Orzammar, and the Circle of Magi. Other than that, these treaties don't really give us much information at all."

"I still think Arl Eamon may be our best bet for help." Alistair insisted once again. "We might want to go to him first."

She rubbed at the bridge of her nose, again - fighting hard against the headache building there, and waiting for the decision to move to Redcliffe to issue from Alistair's mouth – but it never came. When she opened her eyes and looked up again, she realized they were all (Gladius included) looking to her for the answer.

"Wait, why are you leaving it up to me?" Elissa gasped; looking wide eyed at Alistair who was not only the senior Warden, but also at least two years older than her.

"Well I don't know where we should go!" Alistair spat, waving his hands in frustration. "I'll leave it up to you to decide."

"Now that is unsurprising…" Morrigan mumbled, her brow knitting angrily as she watched the man dumping all of the weight of their shared task directly onto his companion's shoulders, once again, without a second thought as to how it was affecting her.

"Arl Eamon is a good man, but I don't know for sure he's where we should go." Alistair yelled, his frustration building. "I'm not going to fight about it, with either of you."

"What do you think, Morrigan?" Elissa asked, deciding if she was going to be forced to make a decision she might as well get all the input she could find before doing so.

"I think you should go after your enemy directly." Morrigan said, the tension in her posture easing when she realized the other woman truly cared what she thought. "Find this man, Loghain, and kill him. The rest of this business with treaties will be easier to accomplish if we do not fear enemies other than the darkspawn lurking in the shadows waiting to strike."

"Yes, Loghain **certainly** won't see that coming!" Alistair snipped sarcastically, crossing his arms across his broad chest and looking at the witch as though she was the stupid one. "Also, it's not like he has the advantage of an army or experience with which to respond to our little retaliatory ambush."

"I was asked for my opinion, and I gave it!" Morrigan snapped, glaring at the former Templar. "If your wish is to come up with reasons why something cannot be done, then we will stand here until the darkspawn are upon us!"

"**Honestly** you two…." Elissa said, eyeing them both angrily before turning back to Alistair. "Are you **certain** there is no way for us to contact the rest of the Wardens?"

"Short of leaving Ferelden to seek them out, the only place to send word would be Weisshaupt Fortress… and that's thousands of miles away." Alistair replied.

"Then, we have no choice but to seek the aid of the people mentioned in the Wardens' treaties." Elissa sighed, watching Morrigan tense in response as her suggestion was dismissed. "As much as I agree having Loghain and his **friends**…" She still could not bring herself to utter Howe's name, though she now knew without a doubt he was working with Loghain in some capacity. "…At our backs will only add to our burden, Alistair is right about the odds against our success should we attempt to seek him out directly. Our efforts are better spent focusing on amassing the force required to combat the Blight. We will have to deal with Loghain only when necessary."

"It certainly sounds as though you have a plan…" Alistair said, hopefully.

"I have a direction." Elissa corrected, not ready to completely release him from the frustration she felt at having been forced into the role of leader. "I do not wish to make a decision on whether to choose a treaty or to travel to Redcliffe until I listen to some of the news around the village. I need a better lay of the land before I toss us out into it. Without better knowledge we will likely just walk right into Loghain's hands, making this entire discussion a moot point."

"Fair enough." Alistair replied. "Let's head into the village then."

* * *

><p>Alistair could feel the tension radiating off her as they approached the town. He knew she would be angry when he pushed off the responsibility of making a choice onto her, but he wasn't prepared for her to shut him out completely. He honestly believed she was a much better leader than he was. She had proven that time and time again. Her calm logic and general knowledge made her a much better choice for the person placed in charge of setting their path in the foreseeable future.<p>

As he watched her brush past the Templar stationed near the front edge of the town square, virtually ignoring his friendly advice that the town was already overrun with refugees and they would likely find no hospitable souls left there, he realized now was not the time to try and explain himself.

Just beyond the Templar, she stopped and started rifling around in her pack until she could retrieve the coin purse she had liberated from the bandits that had accosted them outside the city, and then turned to Morrigan.

"I'm going to head into the Chantry first and see if I can find this Ser Bryant. With the current tensions, it's probably best you don't go in, not to mention **you'll** probably be more comfortable out here." Elissa explained, watching the other woman nod in response. "Take this coin and buy any supplies you need for basic potions and poultices, and any herbs and spices we might need for cooking. There are a number of items in my pack that you can sell for extra money. It will be obvious they aren't useful enough to keep."

When Morrigan walked away, she motioned for Gladius to follow – silently instructing the mabari to keep a watchful eye over the witch while she and Alistair were too far out of range to be of any use should trouble arise.

* * *

><p>When they entered the Chantry, Elissa finally turned and spoke to Alistair again.<p>

"It will be much easier for me to speak to him alone," she explained, unsheathing her sword and dagger and handing them over to Alistair, hoping to make herself appear less threatening in the process. "These places are overrun with all kinds of people, some harmless and some **not**. Those in charge are worn down and hesitant to trust outsiders; and for good reason. We have a much better chance at getting useful information if we do not overwhelm him."

"What makes you think he would be overwhelmed by me?" Alistair asked, clearly not happy with yet **another** plan involving his being left behind. "I **was** a Templar, you know, I **do** have some experience talking to them."

"Yes, well **I** have some experience talking to **men** and that is the tactic that I expect will be the most useful here." Elissa retorted, removing her gauntlets and handing those over as well – thinking with a small ache in her heart how Delilah's insistence to polish her _feminine wiles_ was finally going to come in handy. "Unless, of course, you think **you're** more his type."

She watched as he blushed, and stuttered, before finally moving back toward the door and pretending to be very engrossed in a nearby bookshelf, chuckling as she approached the haggard Templar in the center of the room.

Information proved quite easy to come by, and with very little flirtation on her part (_something Alistair breathed a sigh of relief to see_). The simple admission that she had taken care of the town's bandit issues made Ser Bryant more than willing to answer any question she asked.

Once she felt she'd gathered all the information she could use, she politely thanked the man and turned to head back to Alistair.

"Teyrn Loghain declared all Grey Wardens traitors. He claims they are responsible for the King's death." Ser Bryant said softly, drawing her attention back to him. "I hope that you know this."

"How did you…." Elissa replied, knowing she had said nothing that would give away her identity as a Warden, and neither did she wear anything that would mark her as such.

"A description of you and your companion was distributed to the village a short time ago," the Templar replied "he is offering a sizable bounty."

"I assure you, the Grey Wardens did no such thing!" Elissa insisted, cautiously inspecting those around her and wishing she hadn't given up her weapons, before realizing no one else was paying attention.

"I don't believe the Grey Wardens would be as careless or as malicious as the Teyrn claims, but either way, there it is," he replied, raising his hands to calm her fears. "It is probably best that you not linger here, just in case."

She thanked him again, and quickly made her way to Alistair, motioning him to the door and retrieving the items she had passed to him.

"What was that about?" Alistair asked, watching the tension that had taken over her as she replaced her blades and gauntlets and guided them briskly back to Morrigan where she stood with Gladius near the vendor.

"Oh, you know, Loghain has set a bounty on our heads and released it to the surrounding populace." Elissa explained, her words angry and stilted. "Apparently the Grey Wardens are traitors to the crown and single-handedly responsible for Cailan's death, and **we**, being the only ones remaining, are to be held responsible for those crimes."

"What?" Alistair yelped, drawing attention to them before lowering his voice at the realization that was probably a bad idea in light of what she had just told him. "Shouldn't we be gathering Morrigan and your hound and getting out of here?"

"Not until I visit the tavern. The information I just got gave me nothing with regard to making our travel plans." Elissa replied, watching as Morrigan and Gladius fell in beside them and continuing to move them further into the village in search of the bar. "Most of what I now know simply reinforces what we had already postulated. Loghain has installed himself as reagent and is ruling in place of Anora. He intends to take the throne."

"So this whole thing is about power? **Seriously**! We may very well lose the **entire** country to the Blight because Loghain wanted to put himself on the throne?" Alistair asked, incensed.

"I doubt it is as simple as that. The Loghain I knew of as a child had little interest in political power, aside from ensuring his daughter's position therein." Elissa said, shaking slightly as the pieces began to fall into place. "I suspect this has more to do with the people pulling his strings than his own personal desires."

"So you think Howe is behind this?" Alistair whispered, eyes growing wide when her words began to sink in.

"The more I ponder it, the more sense it begins to make. Think about it! What does Loghain hate more than anything?" Elissa said, looking to him and waiting for him to whisper the reply along with her. "**Orlesians**. All Howe had to do was whisper a few little words, often enough to have them sink in, and all of the sudden my family was in league with them… and poor Cailan, his willingness to listen to Duncan's advice to call on the Orlesian Wardens must have been enough to do him in."

"I can't believe one man could have set all of this in motion…" Alistair mumbled, stunned at the revelations. "How could he be so careless with so many lives?"

"Rendon Howe has **always** cared for himself and himself only." Elissa spat, her words growing cold and angry as she thought about the man and all he had done, even before the slaughter in Highever. "He was always willing to sacrifice anything and **anyone** necessary in order to further his own selfish agenda, his own flesh and blood included."

Alistair could see there was much more to the history between Elissa and Arl Howe than the little he knew of the occurrences at Castle Cousland the night Duncan had rescued her and brought her to Ostagar to join the Wardens. He also knew now was not the time to ask. Her frustration was evident as she pushed into the tavern with her companions trailing behind her.

"I'm going to go speak with the barkeep," she said, turning back to the group as she cautiously eyed the busy room. "You lot stay in the corner over there and try to look as inconspicuous as possible. The sooner we can get what we need and get out of here, the better for all of us."

Alistair started to complain, but silenced under the glare she shot him, leaving her to weave through the crowd and shimmy up to the bar. He watched her carefully from his spot near the door as she smiled endearingly to the man behind the bar; easily persuading him to give her the answers to any questions she had to ask.

_How does she do that_? He wondered to himself as he watched the man pour and slide a cup of water into her hand, insisting it was on the house as she reached for the coin to pay him. _She could charm the knickers right off a cloistered sister if she tried_.

"Mayhap you should go and collect her." Morrigan's voice hissed, pulling him out of his own head and drawing the focus of his eyes back to Elissa at the bar. "Those soldiers in the back have taken an interest, and we have long outstayed our welcome here."

Before he could get to her, one of the soldiers, a commander by the look of him, had reached over and wrapped a hand around her upper arm, turning her briskly toward him.

"Well, well, well…. Look what we have here!" he said, leering at her - his eyes passing down her body and lingering over every curve. "The Maker above has seen fit to bless us directly, I do believe."

"These are Loghain's men." Alistair said, sliding into position beside her as she angrily pulled her arm out of man's grasp. "This can't possibly end well. We should leave."

"They aren't **all** Loghain's men." Elissa replied, her voice taking on a dangerous tone he had never heard before and he followed her eyes, locating the Howe heraldry on a few of the men's uniforms. "And I sincerely doubt they are just going to allow us to walk out the door even if I did intend to walk away."

"Didn't we spend all morning asking about a woman by this very description?" another soldier, this one bearing Howe's mark, said as he sidled up to stand beside his commander. "But everyone here in this stain of a town insisted they hadn't seen her."

"Seems we were lied to…" the commander said, turning a vicious smirk on her.

"Gentleman, surely there is no need for trouble," a light voice with a thick Orlesian accent said, drawing everyone's attention as a lovely red-headed woman dressed in the robes of a Chantry sister walked up behind the soldiers. "These are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge."

"These are no refugees, I assure you," the commander hissed, his brow knitting into a full scowl. "Now, stay out of our way, sister! You protect these traitors, you'll get the same as them."

"It appears you're looking for a fight." Elissa said, her words cold as she reached for and unsheathed the blades at her back in one fluid motion. "And I am **more** than happy to oblige."

"Right, let's make this quick then," the commander replied, sneering as he drew his own blades in response before turning to give orders to his men. "Remember, Howe wants this one alive. Kill the rest."

Hearing the mention of Rendon Howe's name incensed her, and Elissa fought with a fury Alistair had never seen before. During their time fighting in the Wilds, and even at the Tower of Ishal, she had been focused and controlled – a formidable fighter to be sure, but **nothing** like this. Every move was fueled by pure hate and fury. He was almost afraid of her as she brutally cut down the company of men, pushing aside her own companions to do so on a number of occasions. She dispatched all of Howe's men first, and then Loghain's, until she was left with only the Commander – and he was disarmed and left to her mercy.

"I surrender… I surrender…" he pleaded, panting heavily and shaking beneath her furious eyes as she leaned her face into his and pressed the tip of her sword into the soft flesh of his throat. "Mercy, I beg you… mercy!"

"Mercy? **Mercy**!" Elissa yelled, laughing a cold broken sound that brought chills to Alistair's skin. "And tell me, why should I show you Mercy? The men who sent you for me certainly showed none to my family when they slaughtered them in the night, nor to your King and his men when they abandoned them to death at Ostagar! The Wardens did not betray your King, Loghain did – **this** is the truth of the matter!"

"I was there!" the foolish man spat, turning his face slightly as she pressed the blade harder into his flesh in her fury. "The Teyrn pulled us out of a trap else we would have perished as well!"

"The **Teyrn** left the King to die!" Elissa spat, shaking the man angrily and pulling hard at his hair. "The **only** danger you were in that night was from the darkspawn. Cailan was many things, not all of them good, but he **never** would have led you into a trap!"

"The Wardens led the King to his death!" the commander insisted, trying to shake his head before she tightened her grip on his hair further bringing him painfully still. "He refused to listen to the Teyrn's wisdom, there was nothing he could do except save himself and the men he could get to."

"Tell me, those men he could **get** to… were any of them **not** his own troops, or the troops of Arl Howe?" Elissa asked, her words almost a whisper as her eyes narrowed at him – watching the effect sink in as the man's face became almost comical in shock. "That's what I thought." The room seemed to pause for a moment, everything tense and still, before Elissa finally released the man, pulling her blade away far enough to let him stand. "I want you to take a message to Loghain."

"W-what do you want me to tell him?" the man stuttered, hesitantly rising but expecting to be killed at any moment as she stepped closer – bringing her face just inches from his own.

"Tell him I am coming for him," she hissed, "tell him he will pay dearly for what he has done, and what he has allowed to be done in his name."

"Y-yes… o-of c-course," he stuttered, stumbling toward the door.

"Oh, and one more thing," Elissa said, sheathing her blades and turning back toward him, "make no mention of having seen us to **anyone** other than Loghain himself. If I find out that you have sent others in your wake, believe me when I say that I will **personally** ensure that you pay for that decision."

The man nodded his head, trembling as he burst out the door and into the town, leaving it to slam behind him. It was only then that Elissa felt herself let out the breath she had been holding and began to inspect the room around her. There were bodies everywhere, the men she had cut down bleeding out into the floor, their empty eyes glaring at her in accusation as the remainder of the tavern's patrons and staff – and even her own companions looked at her in horrified silence.

Her legs gave as the rage flowed out of her, and Alistair quickly supported her weight as the Sister pulled a chair to slide in beneath her. She started to put her face in her hands, then realized they were covered in blood, and began to shake as she tried vainly to wipe it off against her armor.

"I fear we cannot tarry here long," the Sister, whispered, catching Alistair's eyes when it became clear that the young woman was incapable of responding at the moment.

"You're probably right… you… I'm sorry, I don't even know your name." Alistair replied, acknowledging her fully as he rubbed lightly at Elissa's shoulders offering what comfort he could.

"It's Leliana, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance, though not under the best of circumstances," the redhead smiled. "There will be time for more lengthy introductions later, for now we must rouse your companion and be on our way."

"Let me see what I can do…" Alistair answered; kneeling down and trying to pull Elissa back to them. "Hey you, can you walk? We don't need to go far, just outside of town will do for the moment… I think my carrying you will draw even more attention to us, and I also think you might punch me for it later… which I would rather avoid."

She nodded quickly, but her eyes were still distant and haunted as she stood.

"Wait, I think it best if we disguise her." Morrigan interjected, pulling a scarf-like hood from her pack and setting it over Elissa's head and face gently – concealing her hair and all but her eyes which were mostly concealed in the shadows the hood provided. "'Tis for her own good. Clearly those men were searching for her specifically."

Elissa nodded at her in thanks, allowing Alistair to lead her out the door as their party pushed forth into the fading daylight of Lothering. She paid little attention to her movements as they bustled up the path leaving town, and thus slammed into the shoulder of one of the cloaked men entering it, but even that didn't really register.

She heard Leliana's sharp gasp of surprise behind her, and then a deep masculine mumble in response to it. _I apologize, I thought you were someone else…_ the voice said, and Elissa stopped dead in her tracks, her breath coming in short panicked bursts.

"It can't be!" she whispered, pulling out of Alistair's grasp and turning back, pushing past a stunned Morrigan and Leliana to grab the arm of the man who was just about to enter the tavern as the others on the path disappeared inside.

She yanked his arm so hard his hood dropped back, but the face there was not the one she was expecting.

"My lady?" he asked, his face surprised and concerned at her attentions.

"I-I'm sorry… I-I thought…" she stuttered, backing away from him as her companions eased back to her side. "My apologies…"

She spun on her heel, pushing through her group and striding forward out of the town, struggling to get her warring emotions to settle back under her facade of control. Alistair and Leliana shared a look, and even Morrigan watched in wary concern as her hound bounded to her side. To the world, it appeared as though Elissa Cousland had just seen a ghost.


	12. Chapter 12: A Brush With The Past

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale._

_Got this one out before my trip! _

_I have to say I had a blast writing it. Hope you guys like it as much as I did :)_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Twelve: A Brush With The Past<strong>_

Nathaniel's time in the Fade was spent in the same manner as always. He wound his way through the forests of Highever, chasing after the elusive siren's call of Elissa's voice as it bounced off the trees around him.

The longer he travelled, the darker his surroundings became – shadows overtaking the odd limelight of the Fade, transforming what was usually a somewhat comforting, if not frustrating, dream-scape into something sinister.

The world around him started to shift, and he began to sense things lurking in the darkness, just beyond his ability to fully perceive them. It was then that Elissa's cries became more haunting, more pained, more terrified.

He moved faster, his body leading him naturally toward the one place every path in his dreams inevitably lead him. When he burst through the trees, he saw her – pinned to the forest floor beneath the twisted body of some dark monstrous thing.

"Nathaniel! Please!" she begged, struggling against the massive beast – pushing its snapping jaws and wicked teeth away from her throat with shredded bloody fingers. "**Please**!"

He tried to run to her, but found that he was unable to move his legs. Looking down he saw that the darkness had begun to coalesce around him, slowly moving its way up his body – rooting him into the ground – leaving him helplessly watching as the one thing he cared for most in the world was devoured alive before his eyes.

Her screams became more frantic – filled with fear and agony – before finally dissolving into a horrible gurgle when she finally lost her struggle against the creature, leaving it free to lean forward and rip out her throat. Her glassy eyes stared at him accusingly as the light flowed out of them, and he watched the emerald green dim of all the life they had once shown so easily.

"No! Elissa! **No**!" he yelled, pulling hard against his ethereal restraints but knowing instinctively they would not give.

* * *

><p>He bolted upright, physically shaking as he flipped himself over onto his knees and retched onto the ground next to the makeshift bedroll he'd made from his cloak. Once his stomach had settled, he turned slightly to the side – pressing his damp forehead to the cool grass and struggling to slow his breathing.<p>

As he started to right himself, something bumped against his face – and he opened his eyes to see the tarnished silver of his well worn pendant swinging slowly from its spot beneath his chest plate. He reached up and rubbed an affectionate thumb across it, before tucking it back into its place and feeling the familiar weight of it resting against his heart.

Daylight had begun to settle into twilight, which spurred Nathaniel's movements to increase in speed. He had made camp just outside of Lothering after seeing a great many Templar's posted as guards around the edges of the town, and waited for the gathering darkness to help provide him the anonymity he hoped to maintain as long as possible.

Lothering was clearly being flooded with people moving north in the wake of the darkspawn incursion. What little he had heard from his father's men in Highever and from the travellers he had encountered during his trip from there toward Ostagar gave him the impression that things were not going well, and that Ferelden might indeed be facing another Blight.

He knew that stopping in a village, even a small one such as Lothering, was a risky endeavor. His father's men could be anywhere, and all it took was for one of them to recognize him and he would be lost – but he needed to find out where his Father was before risking encountering a darkspawn army on the way to find someone who had already moved on.

So he scouted the town, and waited, finally seeing a group of men within whom he could easily blend. They all wore dark unremarkable armor and cloaks similar to his, most likely remnants of some militia that had participated in the battles farther south now fleeing in the wake of the building Blight. Waiting for them to approach the town, he eased himself into their ranks – drawing attention neither from them, nor the Templar guards surrounding the town.

To his relief, they seemed to be headed to the very place he needed to go – the village Tavern. Such establishments were known to be the place one should seek out if they desired to gather information on the current events of the realm. It would make it easier for him to go unnoticed if he did not have to enter alone.

As they reached line of sight with the building, Nathaniel saw the door swing open violently as a wide-eyed man scrambled for escape. Not stopping to apologize to the people he barrelled through in his haste to remove himself from the place as quickly as possible. He wondered absently if he should rethink his plan as his group drew closer to the now shutting door.

A large blonde man caught the door just as it started to close, pushing it open again and escorting a slightly shorter woman outside, a mabari trotting close at their heels. Her head and face were shrouded, and his other arm had protectively curled her into his chest, preventing Nathaniel from making out any other details about her. Behind them two other women emerged, and he turned his eyes to the ground as the group grew closer – regretfully not noticing how close they were passing until his shoulder bumped hard against another.

He kept walking, grunting a slight inaudible apology as he kept in pace with his group just outside the bar. Then, it hit him - a fragrance so familiar that it struck him like a physical blow, leaving him struggling to keep his feet.

_Lilacs_…_and something else… steel, perhaps?_ he thought. Only one person he had ever known had smelled that way, and so he turned – reaching back to grab the woman who he assumed had just brushed past him and seeing the flash of her red hair in the torchlight just outside the door as she turned around and gasped in surprise.

The face was not the one he so desperately wanted to see.

"I apologize, I thought you were someone else…" he mumbled, releasing her and turning to quickly disappear inside the bar, shaken more than he wanted to admit by the encounter.

* * *

><p>When he finally made it through the tavern door, all thought that had been focused on his unsettling encounter outside was quickly redirected onto the bloody scene in front of him. Tavern staff and the few patrons who didn't look to be petrified out of their skulls were slowly dragging the bodies of now deceased soldiers out the back door of the bar. Looking at the way they had been butchered, the man he'd seen fleeing from the premises earlier suddenly made sense.<p>

He followed the group of men he had been with and took a seat at the bar, near enough to them to still be considered part of their entourage but far enough away not to draw attention to himself. The barmaid closest to him stopped mopping at the pooled blood long enough to take his order, and disappeared into the back room as Nathaniel watched the last two bodies being toted out of the bar. Their armor was marked with the heraldry of two families that were intimately familiar to him; Howe and Mac Tir.

The barmaid returned, passing a modest portion of cheese, bread and cured meat and a mug of ale along to him before returning to her morbid task. He quickly dug into his plate, his empty stomach desperate for sustenance especially since he had lost the last meal after his nightmare in the forest. As he ate he listened to the conversation being held between the barkeep and one of the men he had been using as cover for his travels.

"What happened here, man?" the mercenary asked, eyeing the room with trepidation. "Surely them darkspawn don't come into taverns now."

"Weren't no darkspawn did this" the barkeep replied, shaking his head warily then leaning forward and lowering his voice. "Were Grey Wardens."

"Grey Wardens? Aren't they supposed to be fighting the darkspawn?" the man hissed, incredulously. "Why would they massacre Loghain's men?"

"Didn't like the bounty on their heads I imagine," the barkeep continued, sniffing as he straightened up and continued wiping at the bar.

"Bounty? What bounty?" the man asked, his companions suddenly interested as well.

"Look around you son, these men didn't stand a chance and they were trained soldiers – do you really want to try your luck at that?" the barkeep asked, raising an eyebrow and then settling back down when the men blanched at his remarks. "At any rate, I figured you were heading in from the south? Shouldn't you already know all about this Warden nonsense?"

"No, we come from Redcliffe but we've been scouting for some time…" the man began.

"Oh, then you don't know!" the barkeep interrupted, stopping his aimless scrubbing of an already clean mug.

"King Cailan was killed at Ostagar, along with over half of the army he had collected to combat the darkspawn incursion," the barkeep explained, not stopping for the fearful mumbles that began between the newcomers. "Loghain has issued a bounty on the only surviving Wardens as it was them that set the whole thing up. Most of them died along with the King, but somehow these two survived."

"The King… killed…" the man muttered, clearly shocked by the news. "Who has taken the throne?"

"Queen Anora has named Teyrn Loghain as her regent for the time being," the barkeep explained, "though what will ultimately be decided is your guess as much as mine."

"Wait… so you're telling me that the **Grey Wardens**, the order of heroes sworn to save Thedas in the face of a Blight – like the one we are facing now incidentally – set in motion a plan to kill the King, only to fall victim to their own plan… leaving Loghain, who **miraculously** managed to avoid the slaughter, one step away from the throne?" one of the man's companions blurted out. "And now… a bounty has been issued on the heads of the only two survivors who could possibly refute his claims… does this strike no one else as suspicious?"

"He's right… why would Wardens start a war when we're already battling a Blight?" another of the men added, listening to the others mumble in assent. "It doesn't make sense."

"None of this bloody made sense!" the barkeep yelled, slamming his fist down on the bar. "Look around you, fools. I **watched** what they did. Now, granted, she was reacting to one of the men claiming they were traitors but…"

"Wait, did you say she?" the first man piped up, the oddity of a Warden was unusual enough but female Wardens were virtually unheard of.

"Aye, were a woman seemed to be leading the group," the barkeep replied with a nod. "Just as vicious as her mabari, she was, even more so. Probably why you don't see more women Wardens. Something went wrong in that one, that's for sure."

At the end of the bar, Nathaniel tried to process all he had heard while finishing the last of his watery ale – his food long since finished and forgotten.

That the King and a good portion of his army had fallen in battle so close to the events at Highever was unsettling to say the least. When he added to that the brutal slaughter of both Loghain and his father's men, what he ended up with was a recipe for Civil War – which was the worst thing he could imagine in light of the Blight that was clearly building strength.

Still, he believed the man at the bar when he said it was a little **too** convenient that Loghain had survived to issue a bounty on the only people – Grey Wardens or no – known to survive the slaughter at Ostagar just as he sat poised to claim the throne for his own.

His father had never had a kind word to say about the Wardens, having developed a strong hatred for the order when his own father, Nathaniel's grandfather, abandoned his family to join the order then stationed in the traitorous Orlais – but it was not his father's words that Nathaniel thought back on now.

* * *

><p>He remembered the conversation as though it was yesterday….<p>

"_You've never heard of the Grey Wardens?" Elissa laughed, tossing her fiery curls about her face then looking at him incredulously, her piercing eyes making him feel as though he'd suddenly grown another head._

"_I never said I hadn't __**heard**_ _of them… just that I don't know much about them." Nathaniel retorted, his brow knitting in irritation at her mockery._

_He was newly fourteen and not at all pleased to have been left in the company of Fergus' odd little sister when his friend had come down with some sort of pox and wasn't allowed to leave his room or have any company. Elissa had always been an odd sort of girl, constantly trailing about after he and Fergus and demanding to be included in their adventures. _

"_Why not?" she asked, her emerald eyes narrowing on him curiously. "Can't your father afford a proper tutor?"_

"_What?" he spat, narrowing his own eyes in return. "Of course he can!"_

"_Well, he isn't a very __**good**_ _tutor if he hasn't taught you about the Grey Wardens." Elissa huffed, crossing her arms haughtily. "I'm only twelve and I know all about them!"_

"_You can't possibly know everything, Elissa!" Nathaniel retorted angrily, rolling his eyes at her and crossing his own arms._

"_How would __**you **__know?" she replied, laughing mockingly and leaning to poke him pointedly in the shoulder. "You don't know anything about them. I could be the foremost expert for all you know."_

"_The only thing __**you**__ could ever be considered an expert in is being a filthy little brat!" he spat back at her, his temper boiling over at her arrogance._

_He watched as her face turned red, then dropped at his words – and instantly wished that he could take them back. He started to say something, but before he could get the words out she had already sprinted out of the study where they'd been sitting among the old tomes trying to agree on something to do._

_On the table in front of him lay one of the texts she had undoubtedly learned her lessons from, the words Grey Wardens seeming accusatory as they jumped at him from its well worn spine. He picked it up, sighing, and began to read. When she decided she was calm enough to speak to him again, at least they'd have something to talk about._

* * *

><p>Over the years that followed, he had learned many things about the Grey Wardens – both from the books he would select in the Cousland Family Library, and from conversations with Elissa who had been fascinated by their legend. Regardless of what Loghain had asserted, Nathaniel found it hard to believe she could have been so wrong about the character of the men and women who chose to dedicate their lives to such a cause. Then again, she had been wrong about many things if her family had indeed betrayed their country to the Orlesians… as had he.<p>

Shaking away the lingering memory of her face, he paid his tab and asked if there was somewhere he could wash up before moving on. The barmaid gave him the key to the room they were using for such, and told him that she would have water drawn and brought over momentarily.

He needed time to think. Clearly his father was no longer in Ostagar, and so his travel thus far had been in vain. The most likely place for him to have travelled was Denerim, leaving Nathaniel warily preparing himself to walk directly into the lion's den in search of answers.


	13. Chapter 13: Leaving Lothering

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_Travel is done :) Hoping to get back to regular posts now!_

_Thanks to all my readers, and to my wonderful Lady Beta **artemiskat!**_

_Happy reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Thirteen: Leaving Lothering<strong>_

Elissa stumbled along, desperately trying to calm her raging emotions, pressing a hand to her mouth to try and stop it from trembling. It was then that she noticed the blood again, the blood of Howe's men. It coated her fingers, her armor. It was smeared on her face and it was too much like that horrible night Duncan had dragged her from her home while everyone she cared for lay dying inside it.

It was more than she could take. She turned hard right, running full speed to the banks of the Drakon River that flowed alongside the town. She dropped to her knees beside it, frantically scrubbing at the crimson stains, mumbling reassurances to herself as she tried to ward off the memories that were now bubbling to the surface of the fragile calm facade she maintained.

* * *

><p>Alistair watched her shaking as she staggered past him outside the tavern, her eyes haunted by something from her past, something she had just had a brush with. He thought to comfort her, but suddenly she was running full speed out of the town. He tried to keep up with her, but that proved an impossible task as he was bearing the heavy armor and weaponry of a warrior. Thankfully, she didn't wind around too much and he kept sight of her until she came to a stop, dropping hard to her knees beside the river.<p>

He approached her slowly, fearing he might terrify her by sneaking up unnoticed while she was in such a fragile state. She was scrubbing at her hands and mumbling something he couldn't quite make out, and just as he reached her side she suddenly lurched forward and retched into the water.

"E-Elissa..." he began, tentatively initiating contact with the shaken woman.

"Ugh... I do **so** tire of the vomiting," she mumbled weakly, turning her face slightly toward him where it lay against her arms on the ground and offering him a sad smile.

"I think I should become concerned for your sanity if you were to tell me you** enjoyed** the vomiting." Alistair smiled, hoping his odd humor would diffuse some of the tension from the situation.

"You say that as though you're **not** concerned already." Elissa sighed, sitting up to her knees. "I know **I'd** be concerned about me if I just witnessed such erratic behavior."

"Yes... **that**... well, in light of everything that's happened over the past few days, I'd say you've earned one small – though dramatic - breakdown," he chuckled, offering his hands to help her rise and intentionally avoiding any direct discussion of the events – she would speak of things to him when or if she was ever ready to do so. "Just, no more anytime soon. You'll need to put in at **least** four more days of managing tortuous disaster before you've earned another one."

"I'll try to bear that in mind," she laughed, gladly accepting his support as she stood back up – her eyes falling on the Highever shield that Alistair now carried. "We should do something about that crest." She noted the shield with a nod, moving behind him to slide it off his back. "Now that we know they seem to be seeking me specifically, it's probably going to be best not to call direct attention to anything that can directly connect us to my family name."

She knelt down, placing the shield on the ground then digging some inks and a ragged piece of cloth from her pack, and began to smear the inks around over the shield – effectively concealing the Cousland family crest from the back of it.

"There... that should work for now," she said, handing it back to him and watching him secure it once again.

* * *

><p>It was only then she noticed that Morrigan and their newest companion had stopped just at the edge of the town, watching the two Wardens cautiously without intruding on their conversation. Her hound sat obediently at Morrigan's feet. Alistair followed her eyes, turning his head to notice them himself.<p>

"Ah, yes... I suppose we should go deal with our new **friend **then," he offered, grimacing slightly as he wondered what oddity they had managed to attract this time.

Elissa patted his arm sympathetically as she walked by, seeming to read his thoughts as they approached the rest of their little party.

"Are you alright?" the redhead asked, looking at her with sympathy and concern.

"For the moment." Elissa replied, nodding curtly and inspecting her with a cautious eye.

She remembered the Chantry Sister's clear disapproval of her... **treatment**... of the soldiers in the tavern.

"I apologize for interfering," the redhead began, sensing Elissa's hesitancy to trust her. "I just couldn't sit by and not help."

"I appreciate what you tried to do." Elissa answered. "However, certainly you saw we were not in need of such aid."

"Perhaps not at that moment," the sister replied, shaking her head lightly – her Orlesian accent fully shaping every word from her lips. "Perhaps the aid I offered was more to act as a mediator for your temper."

"Those men meant to butcher my companions and likely **worse** lay ahead for me once they returned me to their... **benefactor.**" Elissa hissed, eyes narrowing dangerously as she stepped toward the other woman. "If you seek an apology for my actions, I will offer you no such concession. Those men deserved what they got and more! If I come across any more of them in my travels, I will not hesitate to offer them the same."

"I understand that you did what you felt you had to do," the woman answered, holding up her hands to try and diffuse the Warden's rising temper. "I am simply offering my input. I wish they had chosen to back down rather than press the issue."

Although Elissa did not relax completely, she did back down somewhat. Alistair sighed audibly beside her.

"Let me introduce myself," the redhead said, offering her delicate hand. "I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters of the Chantry here in Lothering... or I was."

"I am Elissa," the other woman replied, shaking her hand quickly and trying to ignore the frown from Morrigan at the mention of the Chantry.

"Those men said you are a Grey Warden. You will be battling the darkspawn, yes? That **is** what Grey Wardens do." Leliana continued, moving to fall in pace beside her as Elissa started to move the group out of the town. "I know after what happened at Ostagar you'll need all the help you can get. That's why I have decided to come along."

"Ah, you've decided this have you?" Elissa almost chuckled, smirking heavily at the idea of yet another unwarranted addition to their group. "And what makes you so eager to come with me? My little display in the tavern certainly couldn't have been **that** enticing, not to mention I am clearly a wanted fugitive."

"Yes, well the Maker himself instructed me to find and join you." Leliana explained, her face perfectly serious. "And one does not ignore direct instructions from such a source."

"More crazy then?" Alistair sighed, shaking his head and rubbing at the back of his neck in distress. "And here I thought we were all full up on that."

"The Maker?" Elissa sighed, eyebrow peaking at the admission as she caught Alistair's glance and gave him a pointed look to press him into silence until she could properly investigate. "Care to... elaborate on that?"

"Look at the people here." Leliana said, waving her hand around and completely ignoring Alistair's dismissal of her. "They are lost in their despair, and this darkness, this... **chaos**... will spread." She shook her head in frustration before turning back to Elissa. "The Maker doesn't want this. What you do, what you are **meant** to do, it is the Maker's work. Let me help you."

Elissa came to a standstill, and Alistair cringed – preparing himself for whatever outbreak of temper might come from his unpredictable companion, but instead of yelling, she burst into almost hysterical laughter, having to bend over and support herself against her knees under the force of it.

"I-I'm sorry..." Elissa said finally, clutching at a hitch in her side as she righted herself and trying to press down the last of her giggles. "I just find it hard to believe after what you just saw in that tavern that you believe the Maker has **any** part in what I do."

"While he may not always approve of your methods, I am certain his hand is at work in shaping the path before you." Leliana said.

"Sister, if the Maker's hand is at work in shaping my path then he has a rather warped sense about him." Elissa said irritably, beginning to walk again then turning suddenly back to her, eyes narrowed once again - she had lost use for the Maker soon after the disastrous end of her relationship with Nathaniel and the things his family had done to bring it about. "And what's this whole **meant** to do nonsense? Everyone keeps talking about what I'm **meant** to do. What if I'm not **meant** to do anything? What then? I'm no one special, I'm no one at all, not anymore."

"You are much more than you might think." Leliana insisted, standing unflinching in the face of the other woman's temper. "Even if you do not see it, it is clear the rest of us do."

Elissa noted the looks on her other companion's faces, they clearly agreed with the Chantry sister though they said nothing. Even Gladius panted up at her with a particularly inquisitive stare.

"Very well. I will not turn away help when it is offered, not now when we must accomplish so much with so little." Elissa conceded, turning to walk away - refusing to address or accept the assertion that she was somehow specially suited for the tasks ahead of them.

"Thank you!" Leliana yelped, a giddy smile lighting up her face. "I appreciate being given this chance! I will not let you down!"

Behind them both Alistair and Morrigan grumbled at Elissa's admission of yet another wild card into their midst.

"Perhaps your skull was cracked more than Mother though..." Morrigan groused, Alistair chuckling beside her in a rare moment of companionable agreement.

* * *

><p>As they reached the outskirts of town, Elissa slowed – hearing a deep voice speaking from just ahead. She did not recognize the language, but was drawn to it for reasons she could not explain.<p>

"Shok ebasit meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun." the voice said. "Maras shokra. Anaan esam qun."

Elissa saw the great cage as she came around the edge of the bushes that lined the back border of Lothering, and laid eyes on the creature within it moments afterward. It was a Qunari, she recognized the race from one of the many texts she had studied back in her family's now ruined library.

"You aren't one of my captors," the qunari said, eying her speculatively. "I will not amuse you any more than I have the other humans." he sniffed, and tilted his chin up – turning his eyes away from her, "Leave me in peace."

"You're a prisoner?" Elissa said, more to herself than anyone – before shifting her attention directly to the prisoner. "Who put you here?"

"Of **course **I'm a prisoner, I'm in a cage am I not?" the qunari huffed, feeling as though Elissa was mocking him. "I've been placed here by the Chantry."

"The Revered Mother said he slaughtered an entire family." Leliana explained when Elissa turned to her for verification at the mention of Chantry justice. "Even the children."

"It is as she says," the qunari nodded, turning away as though he expected her to walk off – then back to her when she did not. "You wish something more of me? I have been convicted of murder, as your companion can clearly attest."

"Are you guilty?" Elissa asked, arching an eyebrow as she inspected him.

"Are you asking if I feel guilty, or if I am responsible for the deed?" the qunari replied, offering another question instead of an answer. "However I feel, whatever I've done, it matters little. My life is forfeit now."

"If you feel guilty, then why do it?" Elissa asked, realizing now that what drew her here was a strange kind of parallel with the captive, around her the others were realizing it as well.

"Either you have an enviable memory, or a pitiable life, if you know nothing of regret," the qunari replied, his purple eyes narrowing on her as he tried to puzzle out this woman who refused to back away from him.

"How many men did it take to capture you?" Elissa said, noting how large he was, how strong.

"Only a handful," the qunari said. "It is not difficult to capture prey that surrenders."

"You didn't resist?" Elissa gasped, surprised at this revelation.

"I waited for several days before the knights arrived," the qunari replied.

"Why?" Elissa asked, eyes narrowing as she leaned closer – trying to puzzle him out.

She sensed Alistair tensing beside her, afraid the murderous qunari would reach through the bars and crush her where she stood. She waved him off with a quick flick of her hand.

"Because I wished to," the qunari sniffed.

"What an odd thing to do..." Elissa mumbled, rubbing at her chin in contemplation. "How long have you been here?"

"Twenty days now," the qunari answered. "I shouldn't last much longer. Another week at most."

"That is a long time to live without food or water." Elissa noted, her brow creasing in anger at his treatment.

This was not the first time she had seen a prisoner being treated with such blatant disregard. Her mind drifted back to the man in the cage at Ostagar.

"Compared to your kind, perhaps it is," the qunari huffed, almost chuckling for a moment as something shifted behind his eyes. "I am Sten, of the Beresaad – the Vanguard of the Qunari people."

"I am Elissa." the Warden offered, realizing that he had finally accepted her – the qunari did not offer such information easily. "Pleased to meet you."

"You mock me, or else you show manners I have not come to expect in your lands." Sten answered, inspecting her again. "Though it matters little now, either way. I will die soon enough."

"This is a proud and powerful creature, trapped as prey for the darkspawn." Morrigan hissed, stepping forward to offer her opinion when she could see Elissa was mulling over what to do with him. "If you cannot see a use for him, in the same way you could the **clearly** troubled Chantry woman you've already taken in, then may I suggest at least releasing him for mercy's sake."

"Mercy?" Alistair spat, laughing harshly. "I wouldn't have expected you capable of such an emotion."

"I would **also** suggest Alistair take his place in the cage." Morrigan finished, glaring at the former Templar.

"Now, **that**, is what I expected." Alistair smirked, winking at Elissa who simply shook her head at the familiar animosity between him and the mage.

"To be left to starve, or to be taken by the darkspawn..." Leliana said, her eyes haunted as she offered her own opinion. "No one deserves that, not even a murderer."

"And you, I suppose you have something to say about this?" Elissa said, turning to Alistair and waiting for him to comment as well.

"Me, oh no, what could I possibly have to say on the subject?" Alistair asked, dripping sarcasm "Adding a , quite possibly, **murderous **Qunari who speaks in riddles to the pot of crazy we're brewing seems perfectly logical to me. Go right ahead."

Elissa stood for a few seconds longer, meeting Sten's violet eyes without hesitation. Searching them for something. Searching herself for something. Then, in one quick motion, she reached into her hair for her lock-picking tools and stepped forward to the cage – making simple work of the bolt with her deft fingers, and stepping aside when the click proved her successful.

"And so it is done." Sten said, pushing against the door and stepping down from his prison. "Why, may I ask, did you release me?"

"I find myself in need of skilled help." Elissa admitted, tucking the lock-picks back into her hair then pulling her pack loose and searching for the few bits of armor and the one weapon she could offer him until they could find better. "And, perhaps, I saw something of myself in you. Something worth saving."

"Is that so?" Sten answered, taking her offerings and not making it clear to which of Elissa's assertions he was replying. "What kind of help do you seek?"

"I am sworn to defend the land against the Blight." Elissa explained, putting them in motion out of Lothering once again, and noticing that Alistair fell in close at her side as though he feared the qunari would turn on her at any moment.

"The Blight?" Sten questioned, noting but not particularly acknowledging Alistair's presence nearby. "You are a Grey Warden, then?"

"I am." Elissa answered simply.

"Surprising. My people have heard legends of the Grey Wardens' strength and skill... though I suppose not every legend is true." Sten replied, thinking for a moment then continuing. "I will follow you into battle, and in doing so I shall find my atonement."

"And what if I don't lead you to atonement?" Elissa asked, unphased by his clear insult to her skills.

The Qunari were a race bred as fierce warriors, none of them women. It would take a lot of work on her part for Sten to even begin to respect her as an equal, much less a leader.

"Then I shall find it myself," was the qunari's only answer before he turned his attention to the edge of town. "May we proceed? I am eager to be elsewhere."

"As it turns out, so am I." Elissa laughed, watching as everyone fell in behind her while she pushed toward the wall that marked not only the edge of Lothering but also the continuation of the Imperial Highway.

* * *

><p>She started to think they were going to make it out of the town without encountering any further trouble, when they suddenly found themselves facing a large group of townspeople just outside the very back border of the village.<p>

"We done heard what was said," one of the men began, stepping toward her. "You're a Warden."

"Gentlemen, I don't know what you've heard, but I can assure you, the Wardens had no part in what happened to the King." Alistair attempted to explain, moving forward to place himself in between Elissa and the group when he saw her eyes narrow dangerously in response to the man's words.

"I don't know if you lot killed King Cailan, and Maker forgive me – I don't care," the man continued, waving off Alistair's attempt to diffuse the situation. "That bounty on her head could feed a lot of hungry bellies."

"You don't want to do this!" Leliana insisted, moving forward in a panic as Elissa unsheathed her weapons – and Sten and Morrigan made ready at her motion, Gladius growling angrily at her heel – leaving only she and Alistair trying to placate the men before things spun into chaos.

"I don't want to, but need requires that I do," the man said, hanging his head for a moment before pulling out his own dull blade. "Attack!"

Around him the other men set into motion, running at Elissa and her companions in their desperation. It was all too easy to cut them down, farmers and shop keeps were no match for those trained in battle.

"Stupid, **stupid** men!" Elissa spat, angrily re-sheathing her weapons. "Why couldn't you just leave me alone?"

"They may as well have been unarmed." Alistair said, grimacing in disgust as he kicked away the shortsword in a nearby man's hand.

"Such needless slaughter." Leliana mused, shaking her head sadly.

"Don't worry **sister.**" Elissa spat angrily as she moved again to leave the village. "I assure you I took no pleasure in taking the lives of those men."

"I-I, no, I was not insinuating..." Leliana stuttered, trying to convince the woman she was not judging her for her actions as she scurried after her continuing to apologize, realizing her place within the group hung on the connection between her and this woman – which was tenuous at best.

* * *

><p>She almost ran into Elissa's back when she came to a stop just at the edge of the ramps leading them back to the Imperial Highway, glancing at the woman in concern as she pressed her hand against her sternum, her eyes clenched in concentration. She looked as though she might be sick again.<p>

"Darkspawn..." Elissa muttered, biting back the nausea as she opened her eyes and turned her face to Alistair who nodded in acknowledgment.

"There are several." Alistair explained, reaching out through the tainted blood to try and get the read he already knew Elissa would want from him as she could not yet do so herself. "Four or five drones, and an Alpha."

"Well then, shall we?" Elissa replied, pulling loose her blades again and watching as her companions did the same – then charging up the ramp, screaming wildly – using the monsters to vent her frustration and anger over the atrocity she had been forced to commit in self defense just moments before.

Sten took out two on his own, easily. Alistair was almost frightened at his power, and hoped the fragile bond he had forged with Elissa would be enough to keep him contained until he could find a way broach the subject of his **recruitment **with her. Leliana kept one busy while Alistair took out two of the drones, then moved to take care of the one the sister had kept occupied.

Elissa, of course, had immediately gone after the Alpha – dancing around it gracefully as Morrigan dumped curse after curse on the creature from the top of the ramp. By the time Alistair had finished off the last of the drones, she was popping off the Alpha's head with a dual slash of her blades – watching his torso thud to the ground in front of her.

She acknowledged Alistair with a nod, wiping her blades clean on the creature at her feet. It was only then she noticed the two dwarves cowering fearfully behind an overturned wagon near the back of the broken segment of highway.

"It's alright." Elissa assured them, waving them forward after she reanchored her blades. "You're safe now."

"Mighty timely arrival there, my friend," the elder dwarf said tentatively, creeping out from his hiding spot. "I'm much obliged."

"You're quite welcome." Elissa said with a smile.

"The name's Bodahn Feddic, merchant and entrepreneur," the dwarf explained, smiling broadly and waving the younger dwarf forward. "This here is my son, Sandal. Say hello, my boy."

"Hello." Sandal smiled quietly.

"Road's have been mighty dangerous these days," the dwarf continued, inspecting the heavily armed collection of people around Elissa. "Mind if I ask what brings you out here? Perhaps we are going the same way."

"It's a bit... um... **complicated**..." Elissa offered in explanation. "But you're welcome to come along. It certainly can't hurt to have a merchant among us."

"Complicated?" Bodahn laughed, shaking his head. "Somehow I'd imagine that only says the half of it." He inspected the group again, looking to his son who nodded his approval with a smile. "But I suppose there is nowhere safer for a poor merchant and his son to sleep than in such company. I'll even offer your group a fine discount on supplies for tolerating the inconvenience of our presence. I'm sure you'll all be pleased with the wares we've collected."

Elissa smiled, watching as Sten and Alistair helped to right the fallen cart while Leliana started to gather the goods that had been knocked loose. Even Morrigan did her part to help.

She suddenly felt very hopeful, and stepped up on the edge of the wall to take one last look over the broken little town they would soon be leaving behind. The people milled around inside of it, not fully understanding the terror that was bearing down upon them. She doubted Lothering would survive more than a few hours under such an assault, and hoped against hope that Ser Bryant could encourage them all to evacuate in time.

"Ready to go?" Alistair said, his voice pulling her out of her head.

"I suppose so." Elissa sighed, turning and taking the hands he offered – jumping lightly down from the edge and holding his eyes for a moment before dropping her face down under the weight of his stare.

She released his hands and moved forward to fall in just ahead of the others, Morrigan moving into what had become her usual spot at her other shoulder.

"Why do you always go on about how stupid I am?" Alistair prodded, starting in on Morrigan when the silence proved more than he could handle – and knowing at the very least he would distract his fellow Warden, perhaps even make her laugh with his antics. "I'm not stupid, am I?"

"If you **really** need to ask the question..." Morrigan answered, smiling smugly.

"Because it hurts my manly feelings, you know." Alistair whined, interrupting the witch before she could finish. "All **one** of them."

"Then I'll be sure to write you an apology once all this is over." Morrigan laughed, finally seeing what it was he was attempting to do as she heard Elissa's light chuckle between them.

"I **was** educated by the Chantry, you know?" Alistair continued, smiling at the mage when she began to truly play along. "I studied history. They don't make stupid Templars."

"Then I **must** have been mistaken." Morrigan said, pressing her lips together and tapping her chin as though thinking. "I'm **very** impressed."

"No you're not." Alistair sighed, waving his hands about dramatically. "You're not even listening to me."

"My, you **are** smarter than you look after all." Morrigan chuckled, shaking her head. "The Chantry must have been very proud."

Elissa laughed heartily, feeling, for just a moment, as though things might be okay after all.

She did not notice the eyes watching them as they made their way out of town.

* * *

><p>Nathaniel made his way out of Lothering, figuring to hit the Imperial Highway long enough to establish his bearings before moving once again into the cover of the woodlands as he made his way to Denerim.<p>

He came to a stop as he neared the large hill that marked the furthest boundaries of the village when the sounds of battle reached his ears. He moved closer, thinking he might offer his assistance... until his eyes found them.

_Darkspawn_! He thought, watching the twisted creatures swinging wildly at the small group that fought against them _and that means two of those fighting must be the Wardens._

He drifted closer, moving silently into the shadows cast in the waning daylight – hoping to catch a glimpse of the only people either lucky or cursed enough to have survived the slaughter at Ostagar. Perhaps laying eyes upon them would give him some insight into the truth of Loghain's assertions against them.

The first woman he saw was clearly a mage, her magic glowing in a dark purple flame around her hands as she tossed spell after spell at the creatures.

Another woman stood near her, and Nathaniel recognized her as the Chantry sister he had brushed against outside the tavern, his eyes watching her launch a barrage of arrows into the foray.

Moving closer he saw a mabari, and a... _is that a Qunari_? He wondered. He still couldn't see the Wardens, they had pressed forward onto the bridge that led out of town. In order to see them he would have to move almost onto the ramp leading up to their level, and he couldn't risk that – not when faced with such an unknown quantity as the Wardens and their companions. Not when he couldn't be sure they weren't actually guilty of the things his father and Loghain claimed them to be. Not when that being true would insinuate they could have a connection to the tragedy in Highever.

Then, just as quickly as they had begun, the sounds of battle quieted. The darkspawn were done. The Wardens and their companions were moving out. He crept closer, risking it in light of their imminent departure. Then he saw her...

The lone woman stepping up onto the wall that edged the town, casting her gaze out across it. She was a rogue. He could clearly make out the two hilts at her back, and the bow slung across her shoulder. Her armor was well made, but unmarked by anything that would designate where she hailed from.

_She has to be the Warden they spoke of, the loose cannon_, he mused, creeping closer and trying to discern her features where they lay concealed within the shadows of her cowl, wondering what someone capable of such brutal efficiency must look like.

Just when he got close enough to begin to make out part of her nose, she turned her face away at the sound of a man's voice. He stepped forward, red-blonde hair catching the sunlight as he smiled warmly at her and offered his hands in assistance.

_The other Warden_, Nathaniel discerned, taking in the man – noting how he made no effort to conceal his face from the world as his companion had chosen to do. He was classically handsome, his broad build hard earned from years of battle with sword and shield.

The woman reached forward, taking his hands and hopping down from her perch – and Nathaniel noted the man held to them for a moment longer than necessary, gazing down at her with unguarded, if undefined, affection.

He remembered moments like that with Elissa back in Highever, and wondered again if she was out there somewhere, and if they would ever have the chance to look at each other in such a way again.

When he looked back up, they were gone.


	14. Chapter 14:The First Night At Blight Cam

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_Here's hoping everyone made it out of the hurricane unscathed!_

_Thank you to all my readers, followers and lurkers – and to my Lady Beta **artemiskat**. _

_Happy reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Fourteen: The First Night At Blight Camp<strong>_

The group only managed to get in a couple of hours of travel before they were forced to stop. The quickly gathering darkness had made it too difficult to see well enough to continue in safety. They'd run into another traveling merchant just outside of Lothering, one who had apparently been looking for them and who claimed to have known Duncan. Elissa had graciously allowed him to tag along until she could fully investigate his reasons for tracking them down, even though Alistair had argued against it feeling they had more than enough trouble to manage already.

When they'd finally managed to set up the camp, Elissa had been so tired she had practically collapsed on her bedroll – not taking the time to set up her tent or even bothering to remove her armor. Alistair was surprised she'd managed to remove her weapons before surrendering to the blissful release of sleep.

He had gladly taken watch for the night, allowing the others to get a few hours rest. Only Sten remained vigil throughout the evening, pacing restlessly just outside of the fire lit clearing. Alistair supposed he should feel comforted that the massive qunari was keeping watch alongside him, but something about the giant left the former Templar feeling unsettled - and so he spent just as much time watching their new companion as he did guarding against darkspawn and roving bandits.

* * *

><p>In the fade, there was only darkness. Deep, all consuming, eerie darkness. Elissa could find nothing familiar within it, nothing to latch on to, nothing to secure her soul.<p>

Around her the darkspawn writhed and screeched – responding to the call of something she had not yet discovered. She pressed on, against her better judgment – something within her needing to find whatever had extended the call – something that would ignore all else until she did.

As she moved on the darkness began to give slightly, a tiny bit of light slowly expanding into an uneasy green glow. Within that glow she found the thing she sought in the form of a massive, twisted dragon. Its milky white stare pierced into her, seeming capable of viewing nothing - but seeing everything.

She started to move toward it, unable to resist the call she now felt boiling in her blood – stopping only when she felt a hand on her shoulder. When she turned, she saw Nathaniel. He smiled softly at her, reaching up to caress her face. She closed her eyes and leaned into the sensation, only to feel the warmth of his skin move away at her response to it. When she opened her eyes again – he was gone.

* * *

><p>As the light of a new day started to burn away the night, Alistair heard Elissa start to mumble in her sleep. She'd been restless for hours, tossing about in a progressively aggressive manner. He'd considered waking her, but knew from his own experiences that such a jolt could sometimes make the nightmares worse.<p>

She'd started mumbling **his** name again a few minutes ago, the same name he had heard her mention at Flemeth's hut, and again in her unconsciousness following her Joining. She had called her brother Fergus, he remembered that much – and so this name did not belong to him – this was someone else, and Alistair wondered what this man had done to acquire such a tantamount spot within Elissa's mind.

Across the fire she suddenly bolted up, reaching for the necklace beneath her armor as she always did when she was in distress. Alistair watched her slowing her breathing, pressing her eyes closed for a moment as she rubbed at the spot where the trinket lay – taking what comfort from it she could.

"Bad dreams, huh?" he asked, watching her head pivot quickly to his – eyes unfocused for a moment before she realized who he was, and where she was.

"Must have been something I ate..." she mumbled, rubbing at her face as though she could wipe away whatever she'd just been dreaming of.

"Drank, more like... as in the tainted blood, remember?" Alistair laughed, perfectly willing to allow her to hide her distress behind humor – it was a technique he used often.

"Oh, yes, the lovely death cocktail." Elissa acknowledged, smiling ruefully. "However could I forget?"

"Part of being a Grey Warden is being able to hear the darkspawn. That's what your dream was... hearing them." he explained, watching the inquisitive look come back into her eyes – letting him know she was willing to absorb any information he could give her. "The Archdemon it... **talks** to the horde, and we feel it just as they do. That's why the Wardens know this is really a Blight, even if others refuse to believe it."

"The Archdemon..." she answered, thinking back on her dream and remembering the call of the great creature in the dark. "Was that the dragon?"

"I don't know if it's really a dragon, but it sure looks like one." Alistair replied, shaking his head in disgust as he remembered his own visions of it. "And yes, that's the Archdemon. It takes a bit, but eventually you can block the dreams out if you focus hard enough on it. Some of the older Grey Wardens say they can understand the Archdemon, and so they allow them to continue, hoping to glean some useful information – but I can't make out anything myself, so I am perfectly content to block them out when I can." She watched him carefully, and Alistair began to feel uncomfortable under her penetrating stare. "Anyhow, when I heard you thrashing about, I thought I should tell you. It was scary for me at first too."

"Oh, so you're **over** being scared now, are you?" Elissa asked, quirking an eyebrow up and smirking at him.

"No, not really..." he laughed, tousling his hair with a hand. "But I wanted to put on a brave face for you. Appearances you know?"

"Is there more I should know?" she asked, moving forward to wrap both of her arms around her knees. "I didn't exactly get to ask many questions after the Joining. I have no idea how all this Wardening works, but I imagine there's more to it than darkspawn detection and horrible, unsettling nightmares."

"I apologize. I had forgotten how little you actually knew about what you've become a part of." Alistair said, eyes widening a bit when he realized that her education now fell to him. "Unfortunately I don't know much more than you, I've only been a Warden for six months myself. I know about the dreams, the ability to sense and be sensed by darkspawn, and the reduced life span."

"I'm assuming you mean that in some way other than the one that comes along with the constant life threatening battles with the darkspawn." Elissa retorted, chuckling a bit.

"Well, yes – I suppose our life spans are considerably shorter just due to our... erm... **professions**," he admitted, laughing a bit himself, "but even without a Blight and all the monsters deal with, most Wardens only live around thirty years before surrendering to their Calling."

"Their Calling?" she asked, forehead wrinkling in confusion.

"As the taint grows stronger within us, it becomes harder to resist the pull of it, it calls us to join with the rest of the horde." Alistair explained, shivering a bit at the thought. "Most Wardens head into the deep roads beneath Orzammar to take as many of the spawn down as they can before being killed."

"I see." she scratched her head thoughtfully for a moment, "Thank you for explaining this to me, Alistair." Elissa said, smiling fully at him. "I know it was not pleasant to speak of, but I appreciate it just the same."

"That's what I'm here for! To deliver unpleasant news and witty one liners!" he laughed, trying to shake off the sadness that had weighed down upon them. "But, you're up now – right? Since we lost so much time yesterday we should really pull up camp and get a move on. Have you any idea where you want to go first?"

"I have a suggestion," she replied, standing and beginning to anchor her weapons and her pack for the journey. "But I'm pretty sure you're not going to like it."

"I **hate** it when you start things out that way." Alistair sighed, packing up his bedroll and noting that the rest of the camp had long since loaded away their things and were milling about waiting for instruction and bracing himself for whatever was about to come out of Elissa's mouth. "And you start things out that way **a lot**."

"I know, and I'm sorry." Elissa said, patting his arm lightly as she moved closer to the rest of the group, leaving him to follow behind her if he wanted to continue the conversation. "Anyway, you remember the merchant who joined us just outside of Lothering?" She watched him look to Bodahn. "No, not Bodahn, the other one."

"The one who **claimed** to have been sent by Duncan?" he huffed, glaring suspiciously at the man in question. "Duncan, who is conveniently dead, and can neither support nor refute such a claim."

"Yes, **that** one," she replied, irritation ringing heavy in her words. "His name is Levi Dryden, and I know you are unwilling to take him at his word, but I spoke with him at length while we walked and I don't believe him to be lying. He wouldn't benefit from doing so, and gave me no impression that he was doing anything other than asking for our help, not demanding that we honor the vow of a man who, as you said, is now dead."

"I'm sorry, Elissa, I just don't see how helping this Levi will be of any use to us in stopping the Blight." Alistair retorted, becoming irritated himself, as he always did when he could sense her frustration being directed at him. "We need to be seeking aid in fighting against the horde, not chasing after old Warden legends."

"Need I remind you that it was **you** who decided to put me in charge of this fiasco and not **me** that asked for it?" Elissa snapped, coming to a standstill and turning to him, waving a finger about in her anger. "Now could you just **listen** for a moment, just hear me out** before** you decide to fight me on it?"

"Fine." Alistair snipped, crossing his arms and glaring back at her.

"Levi said Soldier's Peak used to be quite the stronghold for the Wardens, and it's located just far enough off the beaten path to make a good location for people who want to stay undetected," she explained, watching his expression soften as he began to see the point she was trying to make. "Add to that, no one would expect it to be habitable after so long – and you've got a pretty good spot for us to create a foothold for ourselves. It isn't that far from Highever, and I **know** how things are built there. They're built to last. If we can salvage such a base for ourselves, it will make continuing our quest infinitely safer as we will have some place **other** than a woodland camp to return to should circumstances dictate we need to - and I'm fairly certain they will."

"Alright, alright I concede," he replied, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Your plan is solid. We will go to Soldier's Peak."

She smiled at him, pleased with her victory, and headed off to round up the others. He shook his head as he watched her go, thinking that he really needed to learn to listen to what she had to say without argument. It usually turned out to be the best plan in the end – whether he initially thought so or not - and they would save time and energy by not arguing among themselves.

He was so engrossed in what he was thinking, he did not hear the other woman approach until she spoke from beside him.

"I have a wonder, Alistair, if you will indulge me..." Morrigan said, smiling maliciously as he turned to acknowledge her.

"Do I have a choice?" Alistair sighed, rolling his eyes and wishing for any conversation other than this one.

"Of the two of you that remain, **you** are the senior Grey Warden here," the witch began, her eyes drifting over to Elissa who was happily helping the others to load things into Bodahn's cart for departure. "I find it... **curious**... that you allow another to lead, while you follow."

"You find that **curious **do you?" he replied, knowing where this was headed and that he could not stop it from going there – Morrigan would complete her inquest whether he was a willing participant or not.

"I do..." Morrigan continued, turning her golden eyes back on to him. "In fact, I have noticed that you **push** her to lead – often when she makes it clear that she does not wish to shoulder such burden alone." Something within her eyes shifted and Alistair realized that she actually cared for Elissa, something he would not have believed her capable of. "Is this behavior the policy of the Grey Wardens, or simply your personal desire?"

"What do you want to hear, Morrigan?" Alistair spat, his consideration of her sudden development of feelings forgotten in light of his irritation with her. "Do you want me to say that I prefer to follow? Fine – I do."

"You sound so **very** defensive..." the witch almost laughed, eyes narrowing on him as she allowed her words to sink in.

"Couldn't you crawl into a bush somewhere and die?" he hissed, realizing that Elissa was moving the group out and suddenly wanting to be anywhere other than where he was standing. "That would be great, thanks!"

Morrigan watched the former Templar jog off, moving to catch up to Elissa where she walked at the head of the group. She wondered if the woman knew how her fellow Warden felt about her... if he realized it himself... but the time for such preponderances was not now. Now they had to move.

* * *

><p>Elissa smiled as Alistair fell into step beside her, comforted by something that had simply become routine when they traveled together. She inspected him carefully before finally choosing to broach the topic she'd avoided long enough to allow him time to grieve.<p>

"Do you want to talk about Duncan?" she asked, watching his features cloud a bit as he turned to her.

"You don't have to do that..." he replied, waving her off lightly. "I know you didn't know him as long as I did."

"That doesn't mean I don't mourn his loss, Alistair." Elissa replied, reaching over to squeeze his gauntleted hand lightly, then letting it go. "He saved my life in Highever."

"I... I know I should have handled it better." Alistair began, hanging his head a bit and rubbing at the back of his neck. "Duncan warned me right from the beginning this could happen... any of us could die in battle. I shouldn't have lost it, not when so much is riding on us... not with the Blight and... and everything. I'm sorry. I faltered when you needed me most."

"There's no need to apologize," she assured him, her smile letting him know she wasn't angry or disappointed in him. "It's not like I'm always a paragon of sanity myself. You saw me in the Wilds when we found those soldiers from Highever, and again in Lothering after I thought... well, after Howe's men... We all break from time to time, Alistair. No one is immune."

"What exactly **did** happen in Lothering?" he asked, eying her cautiously as he broached a subject he wasn't sure she was ready to speak on. "I mean... the soldiers in the tavern aside... when we were leaving, that man who spoke to Leliana... you looked as though you'd seen a ghost."

"I suppose in a way I did." Elissa explained, her eyes becoming distant as she heard Nathaniel's voice echoing in her mind (_I apologize, I thought you were someone else..._). "I heard someone, someone who couldn't have possibly have been there – or I thought I did anyway."

"Your brother?" Alistair asked, knowing the answer even before he asked the question – she'd heard the man whose name she called out regularly in her dreams.

"No, not Fergus... someone from my past, someone who shouldn't matter anymore... not after everything that's happened," she replied, shaking her head before turning back to him – her features shifting back to neutrality. "I'm sorry, can we talk about something else. I'd really prefer not to think on this anymore."

"Certainly, I'm sorry," he said, knowing he shouldn't have pushed her when he knew she didn't want to speak of it – but unable to deny the relief he felt when she said that the man behind the name shouldn't matter to her anymore. "You know, I'd like to have a proper funeral for Duncan... maybe once all of this is done, if we're still alive. I don't think he had any family to speak of."

"He had you." Elissa said, smiling warmly at him and watching his face light in answer.

"I suppose he did." Alistair replied, knowing she was right and touched that she would think so highly of his ties to the elder Warden having known both of them for so short a time. "It probably sounds stupid, but part of me wishes I was with him in the battle. I feel like I abandoned him."

"No, it's not stupid – I understand completely," she replied, thinking on her own guilt for leaving her parents to die on the Larder floor while she fled with Duncan. "But you didn't abandon him. Cailan ordered you to the tower, and that was mostly my fault since you were only sent to guard me."

"He was quite protective of you..." he mused, remembering the levels of affection clear in the King's eyes, affection that went far beyond friendship, and what was proper of a married man. "How did you come to know the King so well?"

"I knew Cailan for years, at one time he thought to marry me... but I was..." Elissa's words trailed off as she remembered who had kept her interest from the boy who would be king. "I-it didn't work out... we managed to maintain a friendship over the years."

"So I saw." Alistair replied, clearing his throat when she inspected him following that response. "But you shouldn't blame yourself for that. Cailan made that call, and you fought him on it. I guess I should be happy you did. If I had been with Duncan as I wanted, I would be dead... and it's not like that would have made him any happier," he admitted sheepishly, before turning back to his original topic and trying to leave the morbid behind. "I think he came from Highever, like you, or so he said. Maybe I'll go up there and see about putting something up in his honor. I don't know."

"Maybe I'll go with you when you do," she replied, and he turned to smile at her.

"I'd like that," he answered truthfully, the thought of her traveling with him anywhere warming him in ways it probably shouldn't have. "So would he, I think. He thought quite highly of you. The missive he sent back detailing your arrival made you out to be the most promising recruit in years."

"Then you must not have had very many recruits." Elissa laughed, becoming uneasy at the heavy praise once again dumped on her shoulders.

"Thank you, Elissa. It was good to talk about this with a friend." Alistair said, reaching out to grip her gloved hand in his for a moment. "It means a lot to me."

"Anytime," she replied, squeezing his hand in return, then letting it fall again.

"You know, you **can** talk to me as well..." he offered, seeing that things were weighing heavily on her and remembering her breakdown by the river side. "I'm standing here going on and on about Duncan and you've lost everything... your whole family is gone, and Cailan was your friend..."

"I know, and I will... someday... I'm just... I'm not ready yet." Elissa explained, rubbing at the bridge of her nose and turning away from him with a sniff against the welling tears in her eyes. "I promise, when I am, I'll come to you."

He nodded in reply, turning his eyes forward to offer her some privacy as she tried to get a hold on her emotions again – turning back to her when he realized she was watching him steadily.

"Have I grown horns or something?" Alistair asked, rubbing his head and fearing they might actually be there.

"No, sorry... I was just thinking..." she laughed, blushing lightly and turning her eyes away.

"About?" he pressed, unable to let it go after seeing the color creep into her face when he'd caught her staring.

"I was just wondering how any of the Chantry women managed to get anything done with you around." Elissa admitted, chuckling to herself but still refusing to look directly at him.

"Why wouldn't they be able to get anything done?" Alistair asked, his brow knitting in confusion. "I was very quiet and stayed out of trouble."

"So none of them ever told you how handsome you are?" she said, raising an eyebrow as she met his eyes.

"Not unless they were asking for a favor that I was unlikely to grant otherwise," he replied, realization dawning on him as a smile took over his face. "Why? Is this your way of telling me **you** think I'm handsome?"

"Don't play coy with me, Alistair!" Elissa snipped, wagging a finger at him. "You spend more time on your hair than I do, and I've almost five times as much of it! You're well aware of the fact that you're handsome."

"Maybe..." Alistair replied, grinning in full now. "Doesn't hurt to have a pretty girl say it every now and then though. Beats being run through with a sword any day!" he inspected her a moment longer, finally deciding if she could admit it – he could. "So... is this the part where I get to say the same?"

"What? You think I'm handsome?" she laughed, poking her tongue out at him and blushing a bit deeper.

"Handsome, no... beautiful... absolutely," he smiled, feeling his stomach flutter when she smiled back – causing his own cheeks to flush in response to her attention.

They walked on companionably, losing themselves in pleasant company and the warm sunshine of the day.


	15. Chapter 15: Castle In The Snow

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_This is a long one hope it isn't too rough!_

_Happy reading! :) _

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Fifteen: Castle In The Snow<strong>_

The closer they got to Soldier's Peak, the colder it got, and even Elissa - born and bred in the chill of Highever - was forced to admit some discomfort. She was thrilled when Leliana offered her a spare set of leggings and scurried off into the bushes enthusiastically tugging them on. She'd left her own behind in her flight from Castle Cousland and had been unable to replace them before they had started their journey north.

True to his word, Levi had led them there with little hesitation. Between his guidance and the fevered pace Elissa had pushed the group to travel in, they had managed to turn what could easily have been a weeks journey into a little under five days.

When they finally saw the great castle looming in the distance, she could hear the sighs of relief from all of her companions – well, except for Sten. The Qunari never complained unless it was about what he saw as a softhearted approach in Elissa's decision making processes.

"And here we are, Soldier's Peak." Levi said, stepping up beside her and gazing up at the massive stone walls in awe. "Maker's breath, look at the size of her! What a fortress!"

"She's impressive, that's for certain." Elissa replied, her eyes taking in the outer walls and noting the lack of damage – time had been kind to the structure, and that was a comfort as many of her companions had believed this trip to be folly.

"It's just teeming with history." Levi continued, turning to her – excitement sparkling in his eyes. "Can't you feel it?"

"I feel... **something**..." Elissa admitted, trying to shake the sensation of unseen eyes watching her as she looked back to the merchant. "Whether it's history or not remains to be seen."

"I'll follow you about, from a distance." Levi said, shifting in his own unease. "This place has the stench of death about it. I expect there is trouble up ahead, and I'm no fighter."

Elissa nodded in response, moving them through the main gate and into the outer courtyard. A few moments after passing through, she was struck by a wave of dizziness and watched the world go hazy around her as shadows merged into concrete shapes.

* * *

><p>"<em>Fall back! Fall back already!" the nobleman yelled.<em>

"_Taking the peak will not be easy, m'lord," a nearby soldier replied to him._

"_I gave the Wardens one chance to die with honor!" the nobleman hissed, glaring up at the castle in disdain. "Instead they hole up inside like the cowards they are. We are left to follow the King's advice then... we will starve them out."_

"_But the peak has months of supplies!" the soldier gaped in disbelief._

"_Then we wait!" the nobleman answered, a malicious grin overtaking his stern features. "When they are too weak to lift their weapons, we will send them to their final judgment."_

* * *

><p>Elissa stumbled as the hazy vision faded, nearly falling until a pair of strong arms caught her. She turned her face up and saw Alistair's amber eyes looking down at her in concern.<p>

"Easy..." he said, and she patted his arm affectionately as he helped her to right herself.

"W-what was that?" Levi gasped beside them, shaking off the effects of their encounter as did all of their companions. "I felt a bit woozy there, and then... I'm not mad, am I? You saw it too?"

"It was like a waking dream..." Elissa said, looking to Morrigan for an explanation. "Have you ever seen anything like that?"

"I have not." Morrigan admitted, looking around the courtyard. "But the Veil is very thin here... as though it has been intentionally damaged. We should proceed with great caution."

"How is that sort of thing possible?" Levi asked, looking around fearfully. "Perhaps this place is truly haunted."

"The world is full of mysteries, Levi." Elissa responded, inspecting the area and finding a spot she thought might be safe and easily defensible. "Many we aren't meant to understand. I'm not willing to write the Peak off just yet." She turned to Bodahn and Sandal. "I would prefer, as I'm certain you would, that you two stay here. I'm going to leave Gladius and Leliana, if she wouldn't mind, to ensure your safety while we clear the castle of its current occupants."

Leliana nodded, and moved with the merchants to the area Elissa had indicated. Elissa knelt down and scratched at the mabari's ears, whispering his instructions and watching as he padded over and took up his assigned spot beside Sandal, instantly relaxing the younger dwarf.

Feeling as comfortable with the setup as she was likely to be, she turned the remaining group toward the stairs leading up to the main entrance. They didn't get far before scores of skeletons and half frozen corpses popped up from their rest beneath the snow and started to bear down on them.

Elissa shoved Levi behind her, tilting her head to Morrigan lightly in indication that she was to watch over him and watching her accepting nod in return before wading into the battle.

"Some of them look to be Wardens." Alistair yelled over the sounds of clanking blades and Morrigan's blasts of magic.

"Yes, and I suspect the others are the soldier's who we saw assailing them." Elissa yelled in return, her eyes landing on a stronger skeleton standing far to the back and raining a hellish amount of arrows down upon them. "I'm going for that scout in the back before he turns us all into pincushions!"

Alistair didn't bother to argue with her because she was already gone, and she wouldn't have listened anyway. The others were easily managed, but the scout proved to be problematic even for Elissa – and Alistair was surprised to see their fight continued after the rest of the unit had dispatched the other undead. He pressed forward to help her, but stopped when he saw Sten take the thing's head off with a powerful swing of his massive blade. Elissa nodded to him gratefully, and he nodded in return. She waved the others forward into the main entrance.

* * *

><p>They were instantly assaulted by another flash of living memory once they had breached the doors, leaving them all staggering in its wake once again. Within the memory they had seen Sophia Dryden, Levi's blood relative and the reason he had requested the trip. They had seen her motivating her men to stand against tyranny, pushing them to fight through the hunger that was overtaking them after being sealed inside the Peak for so long. Elissa was awed by the power in the woman's voice, and by her beauty. It was easy to see why so many had been willing to follow her even into death.<p>

"So brave, even when starving." Levi said, shaking his head slightly. "And it was my great-great grandmother who led them."

"It appears there is greatness in your blood, Levi." Elissa replied with a smile, inspecting the room for anything that could offer the proof of innocence that the merchant sought. "Not that you ever doubted it."

"That's kind of you to say, Warden." Levi smiled in response, standing a little straighter in response to her praise. "Generations of Drydens have said that our stock were lions – fierce, proud, noble... but I've gabbed enough, I'm sure. Lead on, friend."

* * *

><p>Elissa pressed forward, fighting through several rooms of undead and increasingly strong demons. Morrigan was now certain that the Veil had been intentionally torn, and raged against moving any further into the castle. Elissa thanked her for the advice, but moved forward anyway – refusing to make their trip for nothing, and now driven by the need to know what had happened to the enigmatic Sophia Dryden. She could not explain the connection she felt to the woman, but neither could she deny it - something within the tale unfolding before them speaking to Elissa on a personal level.<p>

Inside the third room she found a badly burned tome which appeared to be a chronicle of the events leading up to and persisting through the siege against the Peak. When she lay her hands upon it, the words came alive and another memory played out around them.

* * *

><p>"<em>The door won't hold, Archivist!" a scribe yelled, turning his fearful eyes onto the elder scholar behind him.<em>

"_I'm almost done... the truth must be told," the Archivist insisted, frantically scribbling into the worn tome and ignoring the sounds of battle raging around them._

"_What does it matter?" the scribe retorted, panic overtaking him as the door threatened to give under the assault that came from outside. "We're already dead. We never should have done it. Wardens aren't meant to oppose Kings and Princes."_

"_So you would have us stand idly by while..." the Archivist replied, his words fading as the soldiers finally cut through the door and pressed into the room._

* * *

><p>"Another one? A rebellion?" Levi questioned, rubbing at his head as his senses recovered. "What's this about rebellion? Can you make out any more or is the book too badly burned?"<p>

"No... it's lost I'm afraid." Elissa said, dusting the ash off her hands as she stood from where she had knelt near the tome. "But perhaps there are other records further inside."

"**Again**, I say, we should go no further." Morrigan insisted, her voice distressed though she fought to keep the illusion of calm as she spoke to Elissa. "It is dangerous to linger near such a massive tear in the Veil. Any manner of... thing... could manifest here."

"Morrigan, if you want to go outside and stay with the others at the cart, I will not think less of you." Elissa responded, her voice soft as she met the witch's golden eyes placing a hand on her shoulder. "But I am determined to see this through, and my knowledge of such things is quite limited... I am not lying when I say that I need you here."

"So be it. I will continue, but 'tis a foolish and unnecessary risk you take." Morrigan groused, crossing her arms and attempting to ignore Elissa's grateful smile as she moved them up the long staircase to the second floor.

* * *

><p>Through those doors the feeling of unease was almost unbearable. The large room felt as though it was swimming in energy from beyond the Veil. There were several odd circles on the floor and what appeared to be a mirror in the corner of the back wall, though it reflected nothing in its surface. Everything glowed with an odd violet light, and as Elissa moved forward to inspect the area – the group was hit by the most powerful memory yet.<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>Make them pay for every inch, men!" Sophia yelled, a bloody battle raging around her that spared neither side from casualties. "Hold the flank! Avernus, I need you!"<em>

"_Nelatep obresooth sythannet bekon!" the mage cried, summoning a rage demon out of the void._

"_Andraste's blood... w-what..." one of the soldiers muttered, before he was overtaken and consumed by the demon._

"_More, Avernus!" Sophia insisted, her face twisting in anger as she battled against the insurgents. "Whatever it takes!"_

"_Kaelee ai benfotus victus!" Avernus called, pulling a powerful shade through the ever widening tear in the Veil._

"_Press them, press them now!" Sophia instructed, watching as the demons her fellow Warden had summoned began to turn not only on the Lord's men, but also on the Wardens in their frenzy._

"_No! I command you!" Avernus yelled, watching as the shade turned its glassy eyes to him. "Fight the King's men, leave the Wardens be!"_

"_Fool!" the shade laughed menacingly. "So much death, suffering and... oh, yes... __**blood**__! The Veil is fully torn now. Your soul is mine, Avernus!"_

_"Acolytes, retreat now!" the mage yelled, fear in his eyes. "The battle is lost!"_

_Around him the mages fell, one after another – leaving only him to retreat through the doors leading to the tower – abandoning Sophia to her fate._

"_Avernus!" she cried, unable to accept his betrayal._

* * *

><p>"What just happened?" Levi asked, shaking off the vision – but unable to get an answer as several skeletons popped out of the glowing circles on the floor and a rage demon emerged from the mirror behind Elissa.<p>

"Elissa! Behind you!" Alistair called, barreling toward her when he realized she was still too shaken by their latest brush with the Fade to be fully aware of the danger lurking nearby. _I'm not going to make it in time_, he thought, watching the flame bathed spirit press toward her, freezing suddenly in a flash of green light just before it could reach her.

"Well, hurry and dispatch it then!" Morrigan hissed, as the grateful former Templar caught her eye. "That hold will not keep it forever."

He nodded respectfully, knowing the witch had probably just saved Elissa's life, then turned his full force on the demon leaving Sten and Morrigan to work on the skeletons. Behind the demon, Elissa finally seemed to be coming back to herself, and had drawn her blades to begin working on it along with him. They continued to assault it for some time before realizing they weren't making any progress toward weakening it, only becoming tired themselves.

"Something is off about this..." Elissa huffed, her breath coming in short pants from the strain of the lengthy battle. "We should have taken it down by now, but it isn't taking damage properly. I think it has something to do with those circles."

"Maybe it draws strength from the creatures within them." Alistair offered, turning to Morrigan and Sten and raising his voice to be sure his instructions carried. "Take out the skeletons, we cannot drop this demon while they live."

The qunari and the witch doubled their efforts, and a few minutes later had managed to kill all the skeletons – leaving the summoning circles empty.

"Focus everything on the demon." Elissa yelled, watching Morrigan's hands flash as she leveled a wave of ice onto it while Sten charged over and swung his massive blade to cleave into it.

With their combined efforts and the lack of minions to fuel the demon's life force, they finally managed to subdue it – almost collapsing in exhaustion when they were done.

* * *

><p>"The Wardens summoned... demons... I can't believe it!" Levi stuttered, moving from his hiding spot in the back corner of the room. "And my grandmother... she <strong>knew<strong>!"

"She was fighting for her life, Levi." Elissa replied, knowing that it did not absolve the woman of all guilt, but having a strange understanding for the necessity of making certain unseemly choices when survival depended on it. "None of us can know what we would do under such circumstances. It is not our place to judge her, we can only seek to learn from her mistakes."

"I suppose you are right..." Levi reluctantly admitted. "I simply believed that my family was better than that... but, answers may lay ahead, perhaps there is an explanation as you believe."

Elissa nodded, finally recovering enough to move them into the next room – where they were immediately surrounded by a wave of skeletons. Once they had dealt with them, Elissa inspected their surroundings and found two doors leading out – one blocked by some sort of mystical barrier.

"Morrigan, what do you make of this?" Elissa asked, waving her over.

"The magic is powerful, but whether 'tis intended to keep something out or to keep something in I cannot say." Morrigan replied, running her fingers along it in analysis. "Either way I cannot break it."

"Door number two it is." Elissa smirked, making her way over to it and pressing inside – stopping as a lone figure behind the desk in the rear of the room turned to face her.

"Step no further, Warden," came the voice, worn by the years into something more like the sound of breaking glass than what the flashes of memory had played before. "This one would speak with you."

It was Sophia Dryden's body that stood before her, though it was ravaged by decay – the eyes glassy and glazed – the long dead Warden no more than a puppet for whatever now lived inside.

"And why should I speak with you, demon?" Elissa questioned, tilting her chin up arrogantly in reply as she stepped further into the room against the demon's advice – sensing the others move in behind her.

"Because this peak is **mine**," the demon chuckled, tilting its own chin in response. "This one is the Dryden... Commander... Sophia... all of these things, and none of them."

"G-great g-grandmother?" Levi sputtered, watching the thing tilt its dead eyes at them in short acknowledgment before turning back to Elissa.

"You have slain many of the demon ilk to get here," the demon continued, inspecting Elissa with caution. "This one would propose a deal."

"Is there anything of the **real** Sophia left inside you?" Elissa asked, venturing closer and watching the dead eyes move with her pacing.

"This one has tasted her memories... seen her thoughts and hidden places..." the demon answered, smiling wistfully, "but she is food for this one... nothing more."

"Then why should I trust you?" Elissa asked, squeezing Levi's hand briefly as he cringed at the realization that the woman he'd searched for was truly gone.

"What is one woman-child compared to your might?" the demon replied, spreading her arms to indicate Elissa and her companions. "Strike me down if my terms offend. A fool this one would be to betray the Warden."

"Speak then." Elissa commanded, crossing her arms across her chest. "I wish to hear the details of this - **deal** before I agree to anything."

"The Qun is quite clear in the matter of demons." Sten said, suddenly stepping forward in challenge – forcing Elissa's emerald eyes to meet his violet ones. "Destroy them quickly, efficiently. Enough talk."

"Deal with me now, warrior, and you will thwart many of my kind," the demon said, and though Sten's eyes narrowed – he accepted Elissa's decision and backed down. "This one will explain. The Soldier's Peak traps me. This one sees so many tantalizing places in the Dryden's memories... this one would see such places herself." The demon paced, a smile crossing her decaying features. "For me to be free, into the old mage tower you go and destroy what holds this one here. In return, this one seals the Veil. No more demons. No more enemies. Your Peak would be safe, and **yours** again – as you wish it to be. Just let this one go out into the world."

"You said destroy... what would I be destroying?" Elissa inquired, raising an eyebrow as she inspected the demon warily.

"The magics! All moving things! The very stone if you have the power!" the demon hissed angrily. "Something inside keeps my kind locked away."

"And what, exactly, will you do if I free you?" Elissa asked, hearing both Alistair and Sten grumble behind her but silencing them with a quick raise of her hand.

"This one will roam. This one will see. This one will... **feed**" the demon replied, smiling its cracked smile. "But without my help, the Veil will grow weaker. More demons will come. More misery will grow. You choose just one of my kind, or many."

"If I help you, can you give the knowledge of your memories to us?" Elissa asked, eying Levi cautiously and watching him nod lightly in response. "I come here with Sophia's blood relative. I would have such knowledge for him."

"This one knows all, but this one will talk **only** after the tower is broken," the demon replied, waving her hand around in irritation.

"Before I make a deal..." Elissa began, watching the demon spin on her in anticipation.

"Yes?" it asked, unable to hide its joy.

"I require that you seal the Veil **first**." Elissa said, narrowing her eyes on the demon. "**Then** I will do as you ask."

"Fine. Your offer is accepted." The demon hissed angrily, moving toward the door and leading the group back into the larger room with the summoning circles. "Come, follow this one."

* * *

><p>"You're not actually going to let that... that... <strong>thing<strong> go free?" Alistair hissed angrily in her ear as they trailed behind the demon.

"My plan, if you must know, is to see exactly what is in that tower." Elissa retorted, her temper rising at yet another round of Alistair's picking apart her every move – if he wanted to lead, she wished he would just do it already. "Perhaps there is something Morrigan can do to seal the tear, perhaps there is something **we** can do – in which case, we won't have to honor any deal and can simply dispatch the demon afterward," she continued, watching Alistair's irritation starting to ease. "But for now, I don't see that we have much choice but to at least present the illusion that we are working with it. We can't leave things as they are. Whether you trust the demon or not, surely you can see that much. Even Morrigan can tell you that the tear will continue to grow if we do not seal it – releasing who knows what else into the world."

Alistair started to reply, but noticed that Elissa had already turned her attention away from him – replacing her mask of disinterest as she once again faced the demon.

"Gossamer strands only stand between this world and my home... can you feel it?" the demon asked, smiling as it turned toward Elissa. "So deliciously weak here. So frail. The entire world should be as such," it insisted, finally turning fully to the group. "My brethren will not make it easy for me to work this magic. Are you ready to do your part?"

Elissa looked to her companions, who all set themselves for whatever was to come, then turned back and nodded to the demon as she readied herself.

"So we begin..." the demon said, beginning its incantation.

Wave after wave of demons poured through the mirror, trying to reach the demon that worked to seal them back inside – but Elissa and her companions were stronger, and pushed them back each time – until they were left with only a desire demon to dispose of. With Morrigan's curses, even she proved little challenge, and the witch nodded with a slight smile as her demise signaled the Veil finally closing.

"It is done, your Veil is strong," the demon said, nodding curtly at Elissa. "Now, you go and do this one's bidding."

"No more demons will come through?" Elissa asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"If they are invited they will come, but they cannot sneak through like the thief in the night," the demon snapped, irritated that Elissa would dare question it. "You rejoice, this one laments."

Elissa shrugged, moving them to the next room and out the door that led across the battlements and into the tower. There were several skeletal archers and a number of traps standing between them and the tower door, but none proved a challenge – and they moved quickly through the heavy snow and into the entryway.

A few corpses milled about inside, just as easily dispatched – leaving the group standing for a moment outside the doors to the main room of the tower, wondering what they would find inside.

A tome in the corner caught Elissa's eye, and she moved over to inspect it – cringing when she realized it was a chronicle of tortuous tests performed on the former castle occupants by the Warden mage who had summoned the demons for battle and left the Peak in its current state.

"Here we go." Elissa said, closing the book and drawing a deep breath before throwing open the tower door and charging quickly up the stairs - hoping to catch anything awaiting them by surprise.

"Ah, I was expecting someone... or something," the elderly man said, turning to face the intruders. "Come in. It has been so long since I could focus, you see. But the rip in the Veil has been mended... no doubt, your doing."

"Avernus?" Elissa questioned, seeing the Warden mage again the last thing she had expected. "You're still alive?"

"Only just," he laughed, pacing slightly closer to her and regarding her in curiosity. "I have but a short time left. Why are you here? What is your intent?"

"I came looking for answers." Elissa replied, reluctantly sheathing her weapons but noting that the others remained armed behind her.

"To what questions I wonder?" Avernus replied, eyes narrowing on her. "Ask."

"For starters, how have you survived so long?" Elissa began, inspecting him carefully for any sores or rotten areas. "You show none of the signs of decay that your former Commander was nearly covered with, so you are host to no demon."

"The Chantry foolishly forbids blood magic... but there are **so** many secrets to uncover..." he answered, smirking at her. "As my body decayed, I found ways to... extend it... but that can only go so far."

"Not so far from a demon then..." Elissa retorted, pacing to his right and watching his eyes follow her. "Tell me what happened here... what brought all this about?"

"Ech... what purpose does storytelling serve?" Avernus groused in disgust, crossing his arms. "That tyrant Arland is dead, as are all the noble co-conspirators and the rebellion. Sophia's corpse may walk and talk, but she too is no more."

"You say Lord Arland was a tyrant, what made him so?" Elissa pressed, refusing to accept his outright dismissal of her questions.

"He ruled with fear and poison. His treachery pit noble against noble in a terrible battle," the elderly mage explained – weaving a story that began to sound all too familiar to Elissa and her companions. "We thought him a monster, and so we gathered allies to rebel. But the toll of years has erased our failure, hasn't it? It seemed so pressing then... but the kingdom lives on in spite of it all."

"What happened to the rebellion?" Elissa asked, curiosity getting the better of her, the similarities between what had happened here and the task they found themselves set upon disturbingly similar – except for the Blight, of course.

"Too many mouths to quiet... even sorcery can only go so far." Avernus explained, his expression softening a bit as he read something within Elissa that piqued his own curiosity. "So we met with Teyrn Cousland. With him on our side we had a chance at victory. Instead, the King's guard ambushed us. Commander Dryden and I barely escaped with our lives."

"The Couslands almost rebelled?" Elissa gasped, striding right up to the mage – all fear of him long gone from her at the mention of her own name. "That's my family."

"Is it?" the mage replied, inspecting her even more carefully – and the other Warden who had moved up protectively behind her – but his eyes strayed to Alistair only for a moment before going back to their original target. "You lost many of your blood that day. I saw the Teyrn's head on the meeting table with an apple in its mouth. Arland's butchers no doubt slaughtered enough Couslands to make them pliable to his will."

"I see the need for extreme measures was justified..." Elissa admitted, eyes narrowing once again. "But surely you had to know that summoning such a large quantity of demons was a foolhardy idea at best."

"Perhaps you are right, but it was survival of the fittest, my dear - and we do what we must, don't we?." Avernus allowed with a quick shrug of his shoulders, and a quick flash of something knowing within his eyes as he read further into Elissa's psyche than she wanted him to see. "For months I prepared the summoning circles. I reached into the darkest depths of the Fade. That moment was a triumph of demonic lore." Pride overtook the old mage's features as he thought back on his accomplishments. "Dozens of demons called by my hand! But with so many variables, I suppose calculation errors were inevitable. I was so close to perfection!"

"Did Commander Dryden know of your plan?" Elissa asked, knowing Levi was waiting for the answer – but also desiring to know for herself.

"It was she who gave me the order!" he laughed, watching Levi's face fall though Elissa's showed him nothing but the critical inspection it had carried since she entered the room. "I would have done it regardless. Only under the Wardens can true magical research continue..." the mage explained, pacing forward to gaze into Elissa's eyes as though his words could sway her to his way of thinking. "With the right tools and the time we have the chance to rediscover the secrets of ancient Tevinter."

"You **do** remember how that ended?" Alistair quipped, the anger in his voice poisoning the light humor in the question as he moved up and forced himself into the conversation. "The Black City? The darkspawn?"

"Bah! Chantry lies to subjugate the mages... to keep them docile." Avernus replied, waving his hand around in anger as he paced away from the former Templar's intrusion.

"How do you know they're lies?" Alistair snipped angrily, ignoring Elissa's pointed glare no doubt intended to push him into silence until she could get the information she wanted.

"How do you know they're not?" the mage snipped in response. "Their faith has us swallow a great deal for a small amount of comfort."

"You seem almost proud of your actions..." Elissa inserted, moving in between the two men and diffusing the tension with her body as a physical divider. "Though they clearly did not result in the things you intended."

"I regret only my failure." Avernus replied, dropping his angry eyes from Alistair and moving them back to Elissa. "That and never seeing Arland pay."

"So you have no regrets for experimenting on your fellow Wardens?" Elissa asked, watching Alistair's face twist in disgust while the mage's interest in her suddenly renewed its fury. "What was the purpose of those experiments anyway?"

"To stop the demonic tide. To correct my miscalculations." Avernus explained, moving closer to Elissa – but stopping when Alistair did the same, cutting off his direct path to the curious woman. "Blood magic comes from demons. They could counter every bit of lore I knew. But the darkspawn taint that lives within our blood... **that** is alien to them, and it has great power."

"What power?" Elissa asked, gently pushing Alistair aside and glaring at him to stay put before moving closer to the mage. "I know little of our capabilities."

"Indeed..." the mage said, an even larger smile taking over his face as he inspected the woman before him. "The Wardens use the blood to sense the darkspawn – but such is merely a triviality. My research has uncovered **so** much more... and has hinted at even greater possibilities." He could see the wheels turning in Elissa's head, and pressed his points to her - seeing that she was open to the gifts he could offer her and pouncing upon the opportunity like a wolf onto a lamb. "This knowledge could provide us with even more tools with which to combat the Blight. Certainly this is what Wardens were meant to do."

"Can you teach me what you've learned?" Elissa asked, silencing Alistair with a wave as he started to grumble beside her – she would deal with his complaints later she had no doubt.

"You've already read my research." Avernus said, pacing over to a long table behind him and retrieving a green vial before turning back to her. "But there is this... to drink it would unlock the power within your blood. You are strong... not like the others... it is likely you would survive the bonding with it."

Elissa reached forward and took the vial he offered, popping open the cork and inspecting the liquid inside. It was murky and thick, and smelled similar to the concoction she had consumed on the night of her joining.

"You cannot **possibly** be considering drinking that!" Alistair yelled, reaching over to still her arm with his hand before she could raise it to her mouth. "You have no idea what that is, and this man summoned demons – he did horrific experiments on his own friends! Elissa – why would you even consider trusting him?"

"You know how much I hate to agree with your soft-headed friend..." Morrigan began, stepping close to her other side – holding Elissa's emerald eyes with her golden ones. "But this could kill you, Elissa. I do not think this is wise."

Elissa suddenly felt as though she had an angel on one shoulder, and a devil on the other, and very nearly laughed out loud at the thought as she pondered which one of her companions was which at the moment.

"It could also provide me with the tools I need to complete our task." Elissa responded, pulling her arm free from Alistair's grip and moving out of both of their range. "We are the only two Wardens left in all of Ferelden, Alistair, and we don't even know what we're doing! We have to raise an army, end a civil war and a Blight and... I don't know if we can. Right now all we have is a handful of random people who have chosen to follow us around for one reason or another. If there is even a **slight** possibility that drinking this could provide us the edge we need to survive this and to do our duty for our country, then it is a chance I have to take."

"Fine, let me drink it." Alistair insisted, moving closer to her and holding out his hand to retrieve the vial.

"**No**, it **must** be her." Avernus insisted, watching all attention focus back on him. "You would not survive the bonding."

"Why? What makes **me** so different?" Alistair asked, eyes narrowing in anger - it was not the first time it had been suggested that Elissa was somehow superior to him in some capacity. "We are both Wardens, and all you said is that it unlocks the untapped power within the taint. I am the senior Warden here, it is my duty to take such risks upon myself if the need arises."

"The old one is correct, Templar." Sten rumbled, watching all eyes turn to him as he broke his usual silence. "You would not survive. She is only a woman, but she is infinitely stronger."

"Stronger in what way?" Alistair asked, his temper continuing to rise at the perceived insult from the qunari.

"In all the ways that matter." Sten replied cryptically, offering no further explanation.

"I'm sorry, Alistair... I have to do this." Elissa said, moving well outside of his range and preparing to drink the concoction – pressing her eyes closed and taking a deep breath – opening them once more and meeting her fellow Warden's gaze. "If I fall, promise me you will see to Howe's end..."

"Elissa..." Alistair plead, something within him breaking at the thought of her dying in front of him.

"**Promise me**!" she yelled, forcing him to nod in response before tilting the contents of the vial into her mouth and swallowing them down.

They burned, just as the contents of the Joining chalice had burned – and Elissa doubled forward, dropping to her knees on the floor and writhing in pain as the chemicals coursed through her blood. It felt as though her skin was burning – every inch of it caught fire - and she could feel the chemicals working within her, unlocking things that had previously lain dormant. Eventually the pain subsided, and she opened her eyes – finding herself cradled in Alistair's arms where he had gathered her into his lap when she dropped to the stone beneath them.

"Thank the Maker!" he spat, letting out the breath he had been holding as he awaited any sign that she was alright.

Over his shoulder Morrigan's features eased back into her usual disdain, the worry Elissa was certain had been there moments before now completely erased.

"Should I feel different?" Elissa asked, raising her eyes from Alistair's back to Avernus'. "I don't feel as though anything has changed."

Sten offered his hands to her, helping her back to her feet – watching as Alistair stood behind her.

"But you **are** different, I can sense it... what exactly has changed is lengthy to explain, and something that I cannot explain completely as I have never experienced it," he handed over a thick journal to her, in lieu of explanation. "This covers the experiences of all the others who were exposed to the formula, some of it written in their own hand. It will tell you what changes you can expect, or at least some of them... I imagine your experience will be different in its own way, but at least this can provide you with some guidance."

She took the book and tucked it into her pack, intending to read it fully when she had the time to do so.

"In time, with the proper materials... with **you**, I could learn so much more..." Avernus wagered, looking on Elissa with lust in his eyes – not for her body, but for the knowledge now locked inside of it. "I could provide you with the answers you seek, and we could unlock the power within you together."

"I will allow you to continue your research..." Elissa began, watching the mage smile broadly while her companions grumbled around her. "However, **all** decisions will go through me... while I will willingly sacrifice myself to your cause, I cannot not allow you to sacrifice others as you did before." His brow creased and he made to argue before she waved him into silence. "When and if your research bears fruit, I am **always **the **first** to know. Understood?"

"As you wish" Avernus replied, knowing she would offer him no other options.

* * *

><p>"And now, we must deal with your Commander..." she sighed heavily, moving the group back toward the tower exit and into the main section of the Peak to dispatch the demon.<p>

She could feel Alistair seething beside her, though he said nothing – and so she stopped just outside of the room where Sophia Dryden's possessed body awaited them – waving the rest of the group forward to give them a small amount of privacy.

"Alright, let's have it." Elissa said, turning to him with a light roll of her eyes. "Well, out with it then... the demon isn't going to wait forever!"

"What do you want me to say, Elissa?" Alistair hissed, leaning down so that his nose was almost touching hers as he yelled in anger. "That drinking that concoction was a stupid reckless decision? That making deals with a demon, even if you don't intend to honor them, is **equally** stupid and reckless? I think you already know all of that so I doubt you need me to repeat it for you."

"No, not really," she yelled, leaning in further and actually brushing lightly against his nose with her own as she narrowed her eyes in frustration. "What I **need** is for you to accept that occasionally I'm going to have to do things that you might not approve of, but that I do them only for the greater good. What I **need** is for you to offer your support every now and then instead of your judgment and your criticism when I fail to live up to your unreasonably high expectations of me. What I **need** is... ugh... what does it matter..." she shook her head in frustration and backed away from him, rubbing at her forehead – suddenly appearing fragile and very exhausted. "You **clearly** aren't interested in what I need... so, for the moment, how about I settle for simple cooperation until we can dispatch the demon waiting for us. Afterward, if you want to **further** question whether I am fit to lead us, then by all means... we can revisit the topic."

Alistair could do nothing but nod in response, his righteous anger buckling at what he saw through the momentary gap in the thick walls she had built around her heart. Elissa put on a brave show, but underneath it all she was a very young girl who had lost everything and been forced (_by him no less_) to lead a group of misfits in order to accomplish an impossible task. She was angry and afraid and more than anything suffering an unimaginable amount of emotional pain, pain that he was now contributing to. In that moment, he vowed to do everything he could to take away from her burden rather than adding to it.

* * *

><p>Dealing with Sophia proved to be less problematic than they had assumed it would be, the fragile decaying body easily giving beneath the powerful blows of the Wardens and their companions.<p>

Once the former Warden had fallen, Elissa sent the others to collect those who had remained outside while she explored the now reclaimed castle with Levi.

"Well, you've done it – Soldier's Peak is safe again." Levi said, smiling lightly as they opened chamber after chamber exposing long quiet memories to light once again. "Unfortunately we've found no proof to redeem my family name."

"There is much of the castle left to explore, there may be something we have not yet uncovered." Elissa offered, coughing as a wave of dust filled her nose at the most recent door's opening. "Besides, Levi – **you** are a good man..." she leaned over and squeezed his shoulder softly. "And perhaps that is how redemption begins."

"I suppose it's a start," the merchant smiled in return, following behind the Warden as she submitted the current chamber to a more thorough inspection. "For so long I've been focused on the past... on answers. Now I'm at a loss for what to do." He watched as she tossed her things down onto the bed, setting a full cloud of dust once again in motion and then attempting to . "And you've a whole fortress to reclaim."

"Starting with **this** room!" Elissa said, her eyes lighting as she ran a finger across the expansive bookshelves that lined the walls. "Yes, I think this will do nicely!"

"A little light reading?" Levi asked, grinning at her.

"Just a bit," she laughed in reply, watching as the merchant moved to take his leave – allowing the woman time to relax in her new space. "Wait, Levi..." she called, turning him back to her. "Is there any chance I could convince you to stay on?"

"I'm a fair trader, and my cousins **have** been looking for a place to store trade goods..." Levi postulated, rubbing at his chin. "Sure, Warden, whatever we have to offer is yours – at a sizable discount of course."

She smiled at him as he took his leave, turning back to the room and starting to tidy up a bit – allowing herself to take joy in having a room of her own again, if only for a little while.

* * *

><p>Alistair gave her hours to herself, hoping that some of the animosity from their earlier argument would wear off while everyone settled into the castle, each one claiming a room for their own. It seemed odd to him this sensation of normalcy, like their odd little family had found themselves a home.<p>

The merchants were busily storing their goods away and settling themselves into the chambers Elissa had set aside for them when they refused to make claims of their own, Gladius settling down with Sandal who had already passed out for the night.

Sten had gathered firewood and distributed it among the rooms so that they could each have a fire for the night, then retired to his own quarters to clean his weapons and armor.

Leliana had discovered a large cache of woolen cloaks she felt could be salvaged, and had dragged them off to her room where she sat before the fire humming lightly and sewing up any rough patches.

Morrigan had disappeared. She claimed a room, and left her things inside it - but had no desire to be cloistered away inside stone walls. Alistair had no doubt she roamed the forests somewhere likely encased in the warm fur of her wolf form.

When Alistair had finally decided to make his way to the room Elissa had chosen, he had everything planned out, each word carefully chosen and practiced so that he could not possibly offend - or so he hoped – but the speech he had been rehearsing for hours vanished from his mind when he finally saw her. She was out of her armor, long red curls cascading over the shoulders of the blue linen shirt she wore – her bare feet peeking out of the light tan pants where she sat, knees curled, on the window seat. She was breathtaking, and he could no longer form cohesive thoughts.

"Alistair, are you alright?" Elissa asked, her brow knitting in concern as she chewed the bit of apple still in her mouth and let the leather-bound book she had been reading drop into her lap.

"Um... y-yes, I-I..." Alistair stuttered, trying to ignore the way the light from the fire she had roaring in her hearth reflected in the emerald of her eyes causing them to glitter even more than they usually did. "I was coming to see how you were doing, after the day and the drinking of the – erm- concoction and all..."

"I feel alright..." she answered, swallowing her bite and scooting back in her window seat to allow him space to sit across from her if he chose to do so.

"So... you can't tell any difference?" he continued, sitting down and ignoring the rush of electricity that jolted up his leg when his knee brushed against hers - his body far to large to occupy the space she had given him without touching her, or feeling the heat radiating off her skin.

"Not really... well, maybe a **little**... I feel, hmm... it's hard to explain." Elissa started, tapping her chin with a long finger as she searched for the words - a sudden feeling of de-ja-vu overtaking her. "I feel **faster**... more agile... like... like... ugh, I don't know how to describe it really."

* * *

><p><em>For a moment she was back in Highever, curled into her window seat - another handsome man sitting across from her and watching her in careful anticipation. <em>

_"I have many things to tell you, Nathaniel." Elissa replied, smiling at him. "But today was far more draining than I expected and I… I will need all of my courage to get through this, so I must ask for you to wait a little longer, if you can."_

_"In light of my earlier missteps, I can hardly deny your request." Nathaniel said, moving to sit across from her in the windowsill – his knee brushing lightly against hers. "Nor would I pressure you to discuss anything you are not ready to speak of."_

* * *

><p>"So no new abilities?" Alistair inquired, having no understanding of how the potion she had consumed was supposed to work and hoping that his questions didn't upset her. "No horns or a tail?"<p>

"Har-de-har-har," she retorted, rolling her eyes and shaking away the memory of Nathaniel - this was not that time, and Alistair was not that man. "No, I haven't grown any new appendages that I know of, and so far as I can tell – I haven't developed any new abilities - not that I know how to tell if I have. From what I can gather after reading the journal Avernus gave me – it can take some time for them to manifest, and it can sometimes be quite... well... **horrific** when it happens."

Alistair cringed, wanting to lecture but suppressing the urge - he had made a promise to himself, and he intended to keep it.

"Horrific how?" he asked, wincing a little when she met his eyes again. "I don't want to know, do I?"

"Probably not," she admitted, shaking her head. "Let's put it this way – the **least** terrible thing coming to me is an increase in the already famous Warden appetites," she chuckled, watching as he did the same – anxiety forgotten for a moment as they thought about the massive amounts of food they were able to consume between the two of them. "Though, I am wondering why you never warned me about the sex part before... I'm no wallflower, Alistair. The mention of the word wouldn't have sent me running for the hills."

"Wait, **what**?" Alistair blurted, pulling back as far against the other side of the window as he could and turning six different shades of red at even the mention of the word.

"Oh, **oh**!" Elissa gasped, covering her mouth to prevent a chuckle and thinking just how wonderfully cute he was when flustered. "You actually didn't know about that part!"

"Um, **no**... though, as I've said, my knowledge is somewhat limited..." he admitted sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck uncomfortably and waiting for her to finish her explanation.

"Well, everything I've read makes it seem as though the taint increases **all** Warden appetites – hunger, thirst – **and** sexual appetites all included," she explained, blushing a bit herself when she noticed Alistair gulping heavily and refusing to meet her eyes. "The concoction I drank appears to... um... amplify those appetites yet again."

"I s-see..." Alistair replied, standing shakily from where he sat and tousling his hair to try and regain his footing. "Perhaps we should change the subject before my head explodes."

"As you wish." Elissa laughed, biting into her apple again and chewing slowly as her eyes followed him around the room.

She gave him plenty of time to calm himself, perfectly happy to watch him move. His heavy armor hid most of his body, and he was rarely out of it, so seeing his broad musculature flexing beneath the light cloth of his current attire was quite appealing to her.

"Have you given any thought to our next destination, now that we've reclaimed the Peak.?" Alistair asked, pointedly ignoring the way her eyes had locked onto him.

"I have" she nodded, "and I think you are right, Redcliffe should be next on the agenda," she said, watching him turn to her in surprise that she had not only listened to him, but taken his advice to heart. "If we can garner the support of Arl Eamon, it will be much easier to move forward without having to place as much concern on what Loghain and Howe might be up to."

"Wait, **did** my head explode?" he asked, smirking at her - the sexual tension building between them momentarily forgotten. "I thought I just heard you say that I was **right** about something."

"Indeed." Elissa smiled, the simple motion lighting her whole face and the room around her - reminding him just how beautiful she was. "Believe it or not, Alistair, I do **value** your opinion – though I might not always take it as the gospel you intend it to be."

"Really? Well that's a first..." Alistair admitted, smiling back at her. "Most people think I'm a complete idiot."

"You can't fool me," she said, wagging her finger at him as she stood and walked over – closing the distance between them and tapping lightly against his chest with her hand. "That village idiot routine of yours is quite good, but you are **much** smarter than you let on. You use your, stupidity as Morrigan calls it, and your humor to keep people off balance so you can get a better read on them. I have my own tricks to disarm people with - and we readers recognize our own kind."

"Figured that out, did you?" he replied, trying to even out his breathing so she wouldn't notice it increasing its pace beneath the warmth of her hand.

"I did... among other things..." Elissa drawled, taking another bite of her apple and allowing her hand to slide languidly down the ties of his shirt for a moment before she walked away from him and settled once again in the window, going back to her book. "But that is a discussion that can wait for another time. You should go and get some sleep. I want to pull out at first light."

He nodded silently in response, pulling the door closed behind him and leaning against the cool wood – willing his heart to stop pounding._ You are doomed_, he thought, smiling as he made his way down the hall to his own room – allowing his fingers to trace over the spot where hers had lain moments before for just a second longer.

* * *

><p>Elissa chuckled lightly to herself as he left her room, listening to his heavy footfalls as he moved back to the room he had chosen, just a few doors down from her own. A whole castle to choose from and both he and Morrigan had chosen rooms on the same hall as her own - Morrigan strategically placing her own between Elissa's and Alistair's - and Elissa was certain that had been intentional.<p>

She didn't know whether it was the concoction at work within her amplifying feelings that had already been there beneath the surface, or if their time together under such dire circumstances was finally pushing her to acknowledge it - but Elissa was suddenly very aware of the attraction she felt to her fellow Warden.

There was no denying that Alistair was physically appealing. He was classically handsome, with his crooked smile and tousled red-blonde hair, and the way his amber eyes always glittered with whatever emotion had taken hold of him... and his body may as well have been carved from marble, years of carrying heavy armor and heavy weaponry building his muscles with perfection. But there was something else that drew her to him - something beyond the obvious, and she was now determined to find out what that was.

_If he doesn't die of embarrassment first_, she chuckled - munching on the last of her apple and returning to her perusal of Sophia Dryden's journal.


	16. Chapter 16: A Royal Bastard

_**Disclaimer: **__Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N: **Another long one, but I hope well worth pressing through! :) _

_ Alistair & Elissa's theme starts out here - and what stuck with me was Not Alone by Red. _

_ Thanks to all who read, follow, or lurk - and especially to my Lady Beta **artemiskat** who takes time out of her busy schedule and her own story work to fix mine! Big hugs!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Sixteen: A Royal Bastard<strong>_

Leliana sent Alistair to retrieve Elissa the next morning when she had not yet made it down from her room to convene with the others for departure, complaining about the amount of time she had apparently spent up in the mage's tower after he had left her room the night before – a notion he did not care to think on for very long. He knew he couldn't allow himself to dwell for too long on the concoction Elissa had consumed, or the "tests" the mage undoubtedly wanted to run on her to follow the progress of his potion in her blood; else he would be unable to maintain the fragile peace they had brokered the night before.

He stifled a yawn as he reached her room, leaning back against the door frame and watching as she buckled the last of her armor and secured the rest of her gear, acknowledging his presence with the half smile he had come to associate with her.

"Elissa... tell me you did not go back and strip off that dead demon's armor!" Alistair mumbled wrinkling his nose distastefully and noting the set that had once been Sophia's was now polished and mounted on the stand in her corner.

"Oh, don't get all prissy about it, Alistair... I cleaned all the gook off!" Elissa laughed, wrapping one of the cloaks Leliana had discovered and distributed around her shoulders and securing her cowl. "It's a beautiful set of armor! I couldn't bear to see it wasted like that just lying in a pit of bodies while its previous owner rotted away inside. Besides… you never know when we might need to look more... **official**... and it fits me like a glove."

She winked at him impishly, and he cleared his throat as his nerves sprung back to life under her attention – turning his eyes down to the floor rather than look at her while he thought about just how that set might adhere to her generous curves. He heard her chuckle lightly in the background, no doubt knowing **exactly** what effect she was having on him.

"The others are waiting you know, I believe it was by **your** instruction that we were all to be gathered and ready to move out at sunrise." Alistair grumbled, his own lack of sleep making him irritable – though he would never admit it to Elissa as her presence in his dreams had been responsible for it, especially not now when she'd already set him on edge. "It's not our fault you spent your night looting corpses and chatting up the creepy mage instead of sleeping as you should have."

"I know you don't trust him, Alistair..." Elissa sighed. "but Avernus has a wealth of knowledge that we should tap into before he passes out of this world," she insisted, picking up a parcel from the bed and moving toward him.

"Yes, yes - I'm certain he's just **full** of fun facts we should - **tap** into, as you say, but it's what **he** wants to tap that is of greater concern to me..." he mumbled, watching her brow knit in irritation.

"It's not like that, and you know it – his interest in me is scientific, not sexual," she replied, frowning at him.

"And just when did **blood magic** become science?" Alistair continued, crossing his arms.

"Ugh... look, Alistair, it is clear that you don't approve – but I thought we had reached some sort of peaceful impasse about it last night..." Elissa trailed off, her green eyes searching his for the connection they'd given acknowledgment to as they sat in her window seat and hoping it would calm his temper once again. "I **really** don't want to be at odds with you again."

"You're right... I'm sorry, I'll let it go," he sighed, remembering the promise he had made to himself to stop adding to her burdens.

"Excellent!" the creases dropped away from her face and she smiled again, pushing the parcel she carried forward and waiting for him to take it. "In light of that, I have a gift – though I will admit, I am not the one who found it – I am only the middleman – or woman, as the case may be."

"A gift? For me? What is it?" Alistair asked, quirking an eyebrow at her and eying the package suspiciously.

"You're supposed to **open** it and find out, Alistair... not **ask** what it is." Elissa huffed, but her eyes were smiling and she laughed at him sweetly. "Honestly, have you never received a present before? It's not going to bite you, I swear it."

"If you say so..." he replied, pulling aside the light paper that had concealed it and revealing a deep blue cloth that when unfolded a bit more revealed itself to be a cloak. "Leliana already gave me a cloak, see..." he flicked his back toward her as though she had gone blind, "I'm wearing it."

"Yes... I **know**... I can see..." she sighed, crossing her arms and looking hassled though she wasn't really. "Look closer, Alistair, this one is special."

He pulled the item fully from the wrapper, holding it out in front of him and letting his eyes pass over it. It was well tailored, with silver darts running along all the edges – and two large silver gryphons embroidered at the base of it.

"This is a Warden's cloak!" Alistair gasped, eyes widening in surprise. "Where did you find this?"

"I didn't." Elissa admitted, smiling broadly and stepping up beside him to run her hands over the cloth – her fingers lightly brushing against his where he held it, sending sparks of electricity running along his skin. "Leliana did when she discovered the crate of plain ones. There were two like this one, intended for the Commander and her Lieutenant, one would assume. She gave one to me, and said I should give the other to you, which I have now done."

"It's a beautiful gift..." he admitted, turning his eyes to hers joyfully before they were clouded in concern. "But surely you don't mean for us to **wear** them... it would be like putting a bull's-eye on our backs under the current circumstances."

"Oh no! We certainly shouldn't wear them **now**!" she said, shaking her head and waving the thought off – taking the cloak carefully from his hands and placing it back across her bed for safe keeping until they returned. "I just wanted you to know that you have it. Like I said, you never know when we might need to look official!"

He chuckled as he watched her carefully folding his cloak back into it's paper package, wondering what they could possibly ever need to appear official at while garnering forces for the Blight... but, unwilling to ruin the peace between them with silly commentary, he let his mind fall silent – moving with her to join the others and get on the road to Redcliffe.

* * *

><p>They traveled for about a week, virtually unscathed except for the one group of bandits they had found setting an ambush for them – only to be ambushed in return – the whole ordeal only reaffirming Elissa's belief that her decision to secure Soldier's Peak for them over maintaining a roving, virtually defenseless camp had been correct. She had been almost impossible to tolerate for a few hours afterward, especially with Morrigan egging her on - something Alistair was certain the witch did solely because she knew how much it frustrated him.<p>

The pace Elissa had set for them was efficient, if not brutal at times. Watching her move, Alistair could see she had been right about the concoction increasing her reflexes and stamina. Where she had been quite fast before, she was now well beyond her companion's abilities to keep up with her, leaving even Leliana to fall behind as they traveled and forcing Sten to request a short rest for the group when even he had come close to exhaustion.

Alistair wondered what else might be changing within her... and whether she had noticed anything new since they had spoken that first night at the Peak... but he was hesitant to ask her, and not certain he even wanted to know.

When they finally reached the outskirts of Redcliffe Village, Alistair detoured Elissa slightly to the side of the others – wanting to speak with her for a moment before they entered the village proper.

"Look... can we talk for a moment?" he asked her, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously and watching her eyes narrow at him when she recognized the gesture for what it was. "I... need to tell you something... I... ah... should probably have told you earlier."

"I knew this ceasefire was too good to last... " she sighed, rubbing at the bridge of her nose then crossing her arms and fixing her eyes on him. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"I don't know. I doubt it." Alistair answered honestly, trying to ignore the glittering emeralds burning into him like daggers. "I've never liked it, that's for sure." He shifted nervously, looking around and trying to decide how best to begin. "Well... let's see, how do I tell you this... Did I say how I know Arl Eamon exactly?"

"I think you said he raised you... or something of the sort..." Elissa replied, an eyebrow raised as her face registered confusion at the question.

"I'm a bastard," he spat, interrupting her and watching her eyes widen as a stunned expression took over her face. "My mother was a serving girl at Redcliffe Castle. She died when I was born. Arl Eamon took me in and raised me until I was sent to the Chantry."

"And that's concerning because..." she began, not at all understanding what he was trying to tell her.

"Well, it's not **that** so much as the reason behind that." Alistair explained, taking in a deep breath before spitting it out. "My father was King Maric, which would have made Cailan my half brother I suppose..."

"What?" Elissa yelped, eyes narrowing as she stepped forward and swatted his armor bound shoulder. "You don't think you should have told me this before, sometime, oh... I don't know... within the **many** discussions we've had about Cailan and the lack of an heir to the throne?"

"I **would** have told you but... it never really meant anything to me!" he tried to explain, pacing over to her as she started to stalk away pinching the bridge of her nose and pressing her eyes closed like she always did when her temper was rising. "I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan's rule – and so they kept me secret. Everyone who knew either resented me for it, or coddled me because of it... even Duncan kept me out of most things once he found out." he struggled for words while she continued to pace, "I didn't want you to know for as long as possible. But, now we're here...and it was bound to come out anyway... I'm sorry."

She turned on him suddenly eyes wide but cautious, and Alistair cringed – waiting for whatever vitriol she was bound to unleash in reaction to his lie of omission.

"So, let me see if I have this right, you actually **are** a royal bastard," she said finally, and he noted with relief that she was actually smiling at him - even laughing a bit, "it isn't just something I call you when you aren't paying attention..."

"Ha! I guess I am at that." Alistair chuckled, allowing himself to breathe easier now that it was clear she wasn't all that angry about it. "I should use that line more often."

"Do you think Loghain knows?" Elissa asked him, suddenly looking concerned as her mind began to work through the news he had given her.

"Why wouldn't he? He was King Maric's best friend," he replied, not sure what she was getting at but knowing the expression on her face well enough to know it wasn't good. "I don't know if that means anything though... I certainly never considered the idea that it could ever be important."

"If Loghain knows, and is in league with Arl Howe as we suspect... it may become more important than you think... but I suppose we will have to deal with that when and if it happens. It does no good to worry about it now when we don't even know for certain that they are aware." she mused, rubbing at her chin thoughtfully and leaving him to think on it before she posed her next question. "So I'm curious, if Arl Eamon chose to raise you, how did you end up in the Chantry?"

"Eamon eventually married a young woman from Orlais, despite all the problems it caused with the King so soon after the war. He loved her a great deal... and she resented the rumors which pegged me as **his** bastard..." Alistair explained, beginning to pace - more uncomfortable about this part of his story than his royal father. "They weren't true, but of course they existed. The Arl didn't care, but **she** did. So, off I was packed to the nearest monastery at age ten. It was just as well. The Arlessa had made sure the castle was no longer a home to me by then. She absolutely despised me."

"What an awful thing to do to a child!" Elissa hissed, her fingers covering her mouth in horror as she absorbed what had been done to him.

"Maybe," he replied, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. "She felt threatened by my presence, I can see that now. I can't say I blame her. She must have wondered if the rumors were true."

"That's **no** excuse to push a child from his home," she insisted, crossing her arms and glaring out at the misty form of the castle in the distance. "Whatever the rumors might have been, **you** certainly had nothing to do with them - and no one deserves to lose their childhood to unfounded bitterness. She should have known better."

Her thoughts turned to the Howe children and how they had been warped by the Rendon's cruel indifference and manipulation. Nathaniel had been the least damaged, and that was not saying much for he was far from unscathed by things. He had simply learned to be more adept at hiding his scars.

The thought that Alistair had been treated in a similar manner infuriated her, as did the notion that he would willingly defend the very people who had cast him out against her frustration. It was disturbingly similar to the way that Nathaniel had repeatedly brushed off his Father's behavior toward his family as somehow **normal **and insisted on defending him to the bitter end, though the man was clearly a monster and had plotted against them all from the very beginning. She swore that she would not ignore Alistair's torment at Arl Eamon's hands the way she had respectfully chosen not to acknowledge Arl Howe's abuses. Had she given voice to even **one** of the concerns she had about Howe over the years, perhaps none of the tragedy at Castle Cousland need have happened... perhaps Nathaniel would never have been sent away.

"I remember I had an amulet..." Alistair said, drawing her out of her musing as he lost himself in his own memories. "It had Andraste's holy symbol on it... the only thing I ever had of my mother's. I was **so **furious at being sent away I tore it off my neck and threw it at the wall. It shattered. Stupid, **stupid** thing to do." He shook his head sadly, and Elissa's heart broke a little watching him suffer to remember it. "The Arl came by the monastery a few times to see how I was, but I was stubborn and refused to see him. I hated it there and blamed him for everything. Eventually he just stopped coming."

"I am sorry, Alistair." Elissa said, moving close to him and reaching up to touch his face lightly enough to force his eyes to hers so that he could see the sincerity in her comforting gaze. "I had no idea what you went through... I assumed that the Chantry had been your choice..." she explained, watching him lean into her touch slightly before realizing what he was doing and pulling away. "I am curious why you would want to keep it a secret now? Certainly you couldn't have thought I would think **less** of you - a person's background doesn't determine who they are, after all, and knowing about it would have given me a better chance at protecting you from any retaliation - and I am certain we can expect it from Loghain and Howe at some point."

"My blood has never been important to me. I've spent my whole life trying to forget about it, and being told I would **never** sit on the throne – which is fine by me, by the way..." he answered, running his hand through his hair and sighing heavily. "I don't think I'm as important as you seem to believe I am. If there's an heir to be found, it's Arl Eamon himself. He's not of royal blood, but he is Cailan's uncle... and more importantly – very popular with the people. Though... if he's really as sick as we've heard..." his voice trailed off and he swallowed heavily, clearly pained at even the thought the man could be dead or dying. "No, I don't want to think about that... I **really** don't..." he turned his eyes back to Elissa, taking both of her hands in his and offering a hesitant smile. "So... there you have it, my dirty secret. Now... can we move on? I'll just pretend you still think I'm some nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens."

"I think I'm the lucky one, Alistair," she smiled, squeezing his fingers as much as she could through his gauntlets. "I'm not here alone, as I easily could have been... I'm glad it's you here with me."

"I can't believe I didn't say something to you sooner..." Alistair replied, trying to read her eyes but unable to contain the emotion swelling within him that she would consider herself lucky to have him. "I feel very unworthy of such a compliment."

"I'm certain you can find some way to make it up to me." Elissa smirked, squeezing his hands one last time and winking over her shoulder as she moved to rejoin the rest of the group.

He watched her hips sway lightly as she moved away, groaning silently and willing himself to breathe before following after her as she moved the group down the hill and into the village.

A guard stopped them as they crossed the first bridge, waving them over in concern.

"I-I thought I saw travelers coming down the road, though I scarcely believed it!" the man gasped, running his eyes around the motley group before him. "Have you come to help us?"

"What do you mean?" Elissa asked, glancing over his shoulder and down into the village – half expecting to see darkspawn wreaking havoc there. "What is the problem?"

"So you... you don't know?" the man answered, disappointment flowing back into his face. "Has nobody out there heard what is happening here?"

"We've heard Arl Eamon is sick, if that's what you mean." Alistair replied, moving up beside Elissa, his armor brushing against her lightly.

"He could be dead for all we know," the man spat, winding his hands together nervously. "Nobody has heard from the castle in days. We're under attack. Evil comes spilling out of it every night and prey upon the town until dawn. Everyone's been fighting... and dying."

"Apparently everyone seems to agree that a Blight is the **perfect** time to start killing each other!" Morrigan mused, angrily crossing her arms as she came to stand in her usual spot at Elissa's other shoulder. "Perfect... really..."

"Agreed..." Elissa muttered under her breath, noting the witch's subtle nod of approval.

"We've no army to defend us, no Arl, and no King to send us help..." the man continued, focusing on Alistair and ignoring the muttering women beside him. "So many are dead and the rest of us are terrified we're next!"

"Hold on... you said, evil... what kind of evil?" Alistair inquired. "What's attacking you?"

"Yes, being able to categorize the evil would be helpful. I can think of at **least **twenty different kinds just off the top of my head." Elissa noted, Morrigan nodding in agreement beside her – even Sten and Leliana seemed to think they were right to request the knowledge.

"I-I don't rightly know... I'm sorry," the man admitted, floundering under the weighty stares of the group before him and turning his focus back to Alistair hoping he would stop asking questions and just offer his assistance. "Nobody does. I should take you to Bann Teagan. He's all that's holding us together, and he will want to see you."

"Bann Teagan?" Alistair asked, suddenly very interested – and noting that Elissa's face registered something at the mention of that name as well. "Arl Eamon's brother is here?"

"Yes, it's not far," the man insisted, waving them along. "Come, follow me."

* * *

><p>He led them down into the village, making bits of small talk with Alistair while Morrigan and Elissa continued to discuss the sudden outbreak of non-Blight related chaos at every turn, leaving Sten and Leliana to silently bring up the rear. Elissa had left Gladius with Sandal back at the Peak, knowing the great hound would make the dwarf feel substantially more secure in their absence.<p>

The group moved into the Chantry, even Morrigan coming inside though she normally preferred not to enter such places. The man led them forward, stopping in front of a well dressed, heavily armed nobleman.

"It's Tomas... yes?" the nobleman said, smiling pleasantly at the guardsman – a gesture that Elissa noted made him all the more handsome, not that he needed any help. "And who are these people with you? They're obviously not simple travelers."

"No, my Lord." Tomas replied, bowing his head to the Bann before explaining himself. "They only just arrived, and I thought you might want to see them."

"Well done Tomas!" the nobleman encouraged, turning his bright smile on his new guests. "Greetings friends, my name is Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere, brother of the Arl."

"I remember you, Bann Teagan." Alistair said, stepping to the front of the group. "Though the last time we met, I was a lot younger... and likely covered in mud..."

"Covered in mud? **Alistair**?" Teagan gasped, moving forward to inspect him more carefully. "It **is** you, isn't it? You're alive! This is wonderful news!"

"Still alive, yes..." Alistair chuckled, sheepishly. "Though not for long if Teyrn Loghain and Arl Howe have anything to say about it."

"Indeed... they **would** have us believe all Grey Wardens died along with my nephew..." Teagan groused, frowning heavily. "Among other things..."

"You don't believe Loghain's lies?" Alistair asked, surprise and relief written all over his face.

"What? That he pulled his men in order to **save** them? That Cailan risked **everything** in the name of glory? Hardly." Teagan humphed, crossing his arms. "Loghain calls the Grey Wardens traitors, murderers of the King. I don't believe it... it is the act of a desperate man." Behind Alistair, Elissa removed her hood – realizing their identities were clearly no longer a secret here – and Alistair watched his uncle's gaze drift quickly over to her and remain there steadily. "You... you're a Grey Warden as well? Is it possible we've met?" he asked, moving slightly to Alistair's right so he could see her better. "You look very familiar."

"It's possible you knew my father..." Elissa replied, knowing that wasn't the full truth of things – but not wanting to get any further into it while Alistair's eyes weighed so heavily on her... he had his secrets, and she had hers. "Teyrn Cousland."

"Lady Elissa!" Teagan smiled, tilting his head in recognition and reaching forward to take her hand lay a kiss on her gloved fingers. "It is good to see you again, though I wish it were under better circumstances... How is your father?"

"Dead, unfortunately... mother too." Elissa said dryly, ignoring his horrified expression as she continued to ramble off her horrors as though they were normal conversation. "And Fergus is missing somewhere in the Wilds, possibly dead... which makes me, the last of my line, I suppose... until Arl Howe finally catches me and finishes what he began at Castle Cousland weeks ago."

"Arl Howe?" Teagan gasped, something clicking in his mind – something Elissa did **not** want seeing the light of day if the panicked look in her eyes could be believed. "But weren't you..."

"**That** was another lifetime..." Elissa interrupted, holding the Bann's eyes to press home the point – and ignoring Alistair's continued inspection of them. "I assure you, it no longer matters to me."

"Indeed..." Teagan allowed, seeing that the woman desperately wanted to keep her former engagement to the Arl's son from her companions – or at the very least his nephew, which indeed was curious - especially in light of the boy's own secrets. "I imagine you're here to see my brother," he continued, turning the conversation quickly from the topic and moving the group into one of the side chambers for some extra privacy. "Unfortunately that might be a problem. Eamon is gravely ill and no one has heard from the castle in days. No guards patrol the walls, and no one has responded to my shouts." He lowered his voice so he wouldn't upset the townspeople milling about. "The attacks began a few nights ago. Evil...** things**... surge from the castle. We drive them back, but many perish during the assaults."

"What kind of evil are we speaking of?" Elissa asked, still needing to put a name to what they were up against. "Tomas was unable to give us any sort of description, surely you've **seen** them clearly enough to give us at least a description of this... **evil**."

"It isn't that we haven't seen them, just that we aren't quite sure **what** to call them." Teagan explained, laughing a little at Elissa's wry wit. "Some call them the walking dead; decomposing corpses returning to life with a hunger for human flesh..." he suppressed a shiver, before pressing on as Elissa sat there unaffected by the monstrosities he was describing. "They hit again, and again – every night. Their numbers keep increasing... likely as our deaths increase proportionately. With Cailan dead and Loghain off to start his silly war for the throne, no one responds to my urgent requests for aid. I have a feeling tonight's assault will be the worst yet." He pulled his attention reluctantly from Elissa, and turned once again to Alistair whom he assumed had taken charge of their little unit. "Alistair, I hate to ask... but I desperately need any help you and your friends could provide us."

"It isn't just up to me..." Alistair sighed in irritation, feeling used - yet again - as his uncle had been more than happy to ignore his presence in favor of his flirtation with Elissa until he thought him useful again.

"Wasn't it you who said that we didn't stand much of a chance against Loghain without Arl Eamon's aid?" Elissa asked, confused that he would suddenly lose the focus that had driven them here in the first place. "Of course we will help."

"There are no darkspawn here, and nothing to be gained if this Eamon is ill." Sten asserted, his deep voice drawing all attention to him just as he desired. "It is a fool's errand."

"If we can destroy this evil, we may be able to determine what is wrong with the Arl." Elissa explained, having long since understood that the qunari would require extra attention at times in order to be convinced that her decisions were sound. "And if there is a chance that we can heal him, we have to at least try. We're going to need him if we're to succeed in our quest."

"Perhaps." Sten allowed, showing no change in emotion – but neither offering further argument.

"How pointless!" Morrigan huffed, moving to stand next to the qunari in silent agreement. "To help these villagers fight an impossible battle. One would **think **we had enough to contend with elsewhere..."

Elissa pouted at her mockingly, and the witch rolled her eyes in response but did not hide the slight smile afterward.

"Thank you! Thank you..." Teagan smiled, leaning forward and taking both of Elissa's hands in his – as though it had only been her making the decision to stay. "This means... more to me than you can guess." He turned to the guard but did not release her hands. "Tomas, please tell Murdock what has transpired, then return to your post."

"Yes, my Lord." Tomas said, nodding and moving toward the door.

"Now then, there is much to do before night falls." Teagan continued, tucking Elissa's hand into the crook of his elbow and escorting her back to the rear of the Chantry. "I've put two men in charge of the defense outside. Murdock, the village mayor, is just outside the Chantry and Ser Perth, one of Eamon's knights, is just up the cliffs near the windmill, keeping watch on the castle. You should discuss with them any preparations you may require for the coming battle."

"Absolutely." Elissa concurred, a brisk nod of her head as she slid her arm from Teagan's and moved to stand across from him again. "I do wonder..." she continued, thoughtfully drumming her long fingers against her chin in contemplation, "Do you not find the timing of this... awfully convenient?"

"Are you suggesting what is happening with the monsters here is somehow related to Cailan's death and the civil war?" Teagan gaped, eyes widening at her.

"At the very least its got to be related to Eamon's illness..." Elissa asserted, and Alistair could watch the wheels turning in her mind as she tried to fit all the pieces together. "Do you know why he is ill?"

"No, I do not." Teagan admitted, starting to pace. "I arrived only recently myself, having heard the news of it. I know little more than you do, I'm afraid."

"And you don't think Eamon's claim to the throne would make him a target for Loghain and his lackeys?" she continued, trying gently to bring him around to her way of thinking.

"Our sister was Cailan's mother... I **suppose** we're royal blood, but it's a shaky claim to the throne..." Teagan began, things starting to fall into place in his mind. "It's still a stronger claim than Loghain's... and Eamon could **certainly** intervene with his bid for the throne... but perhaps it is best not to leap to conclusions." He shook his head and waved away the distress. "I would not like to think that anyone would wish this on my brother. He is a good man, and well-loved by the people of Redcliffe."

Beside Elissa, Alistair found himself consumed with worry. She made a strong point, the timing was a little **too** convenient - and he himself had mentioned how strong Eamon's claim to the throne would be with Cailan dead. Perhaps she was also right to fear for his own safety, bastard though he was.

"My father was a good man as well, and being well-loved by the people of Highever did nothing to save him in the end." Elissa said in response to his uncle's hesitation, her voice breaking in her anger and distress.

Teagan faltered for a moment at the depth of her emotions, but still refused to accept her theory outright – forcing Elissa to drop it for the moment and focus back on their current situation.

"Well, before we can do anything - we're going to need to figure out what exactly is attacking the village," she said, pressing her hands to the top of her head and pacing in contemplation. "We have encountered reanimated skeletons and corpses recently at Soldier's Peak, but I by no means consider myself an expert on such things. These could be completely different from those for all we know."

"I don't have much information to give you, I'm afraid. They appear to be nothing more than walking corpses... men with rotting flesh that continue to fight even with the gravest of injuries," the Bann began, before faltering in his train of thought as Elissa's words sank in. "I-I'm sorry... did you say you'd been to Soldier's Peak?" Teagan questioned, his eyebrows raising in surprise. "The old Warden stronghold?"

"A story for another time..." Elissa smiled briefly before resuming her pacing and tossing a glance to Morrigan, whom she always consulted first when it came to unsettling and possibly demonic matters. "What could cause this?"

"Undead? Spirits possessing the undead?" Morrigan replied, shrugging her shoulders as she searched the archives in her mind. "There are a great number of possible causes for such a thing."

"I hope it's nothing in the water..." Leliana mumbled, her face wrinkling in disgust.

"We should prepare, there is not much daylight remaining and I need to be better acquainted with my surroundings if I am to provide any sort of defense for you." Elissa said, falling in beside Teagan as he walked her to the door, leaving the rest of her companions to follow behind them. "If we cannot understand the creatures specifically, then we will simply have to do the best that we can to fortify our position against as many eventualities as possible."

Morrigan smirked happily at Alistair, whose temper flared even further at the joy the witch was taking from his irritation with Teagan's constant flirtation with Elissa.

"Of course..." Teagan said, nodding slightly – then tapping his chin and eying her closely as they stopped just before the doors. "You know - it's odd... but I was just struck by the memory of the last time I saw you... it was at Lady Ashland's spring salon..."

"Ugh... **dreadful** event that was!" Elissa laughed, grimacing at the memory. "Mother forced me to attend, though I had no desire to be there. Just another event where I was expected to wear a corset and prance about while the **gentlemen** of the realm preened like peacocks."

"Ha! Too true." Teagan chuckled, eyes glittering as he thought about the beautiful girl who had skirted the edges of the room trying to remain unnoticed. "As I recall, Cailan was one of those peacocks... though, I have to ask... if I may be so bold... did you ever marry..."

"**No**..." Elissa interrupted, preventing him from saying the name once again. "Such things were not meant to be."

"I see..." Teagan replied, raising an eyebrow at her cryptically and wondering why she was so desperate to prevent him from even mentioning her former fiancé's name. "I find it hard to believe that no one else has remedied that... surely such a desirable woman remaining unattached is a crime somewhere..."

"That would depend on who you asked, I'm sure." Elissa answered, chuckling lightly – and remembering all the rumors of Teagan's famously effective flirtation as she now bore witness to the fact that they were all entirely too true. "What about you? I had heard rumor you were seeking to court one of the lovely ladies of the Bannorn."

"Ah, yes... that did not take, I'm afraid." Teagan chuckled, unable to stop smiling as he allowed himself to fully take in the woman standing before him. "Though, things may have turned out quite differently had the Lady in question been anywhere near as lovely as you."

"I **hate** to interrupt..." Alistair all but yelled, the way he held his body making it clear he didn't hate interrupting them at all. "But the longer you two stand here chatting, the more daylight we're losing – and I'm certain the zombie horde isn't going to delay their attack while you two catch up."

"My apologies." Teagan said, bowing lightly - though he was slightly taken aback by his nephew's outburst - and kissing Elissa's knuckles once again. "Perhaps we may continue our discussion at a more appropriate time."

Elissa nodded at him as he moved back to his spot at the back of the Chantry, then turned to glare pointedly at Alistair for a moment.

"What has gotten into you?" she hissed, flashing a final smile at Teagan then turning her back on him so that he wouldn't witness the argument about to ensue.

"Oh, **pardon** me for interrupting..." Alistair huffed, waving his hands about dramatically then crossing his arms. "I didn't remember that rekindling your old flames was on our to do list for defense against the Blight!"

"Re-kindling? Teagan isn't an old flame, Alistair! We just moved in the same social circles..." Elissa retorted, shaking her head in confusion – then realizing what was going on. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous? Certainly not!" he replied, visibly shaken at the accusation and fighting to retain his fury rather than falter to his usual embarrassment. "I'm just tired of wasting time."

"Riiiiiight..." she said, eying him suspiciously before her attention was drawn to a woman sobbing loudly just behind him.

"Sorry, am I bothering you?" the woman said, wiping at her eyes uncomfortably as Elissa left the man she had been arguing with and approached her. "I-I'll try to be more quiet."

"Are you alright?" Elissa asked, her anger immediately forgotten and replaced with concern. "Why are you crying?"

"Those... those things dragged my mother away. I don't know what happened to her," the woman explained, starting to sob again. "I hear her screaming all the time... everywhere! And now my brother Bevin... he ran off. I-I don't know where he is! I'm terrified they got him as well!"

"Try to relax... I'm sorry, I don't know your name..." Elissa said, rubbing lightly at her shoulders in reassurance as the woman gave the name of Kaitlyn. "I will look for him. Stay here, and try not to worry."

"You will?" Kaitlyn asked, tears slowing at the thought that someone cared enough to search for her brother. "Thank you, **so** much! Please, I beg you to find him."

Elissa nodded, squeezing the poor woman's arms one more time – then pushing open the doors and moving out into the fading light of Redcliffe.

* * *

><p>"That's probably Murdock over there" Alistair said, his voice still irritated as he directed Elissa toward the haggard looking mayor.<p>

She glared at him, but saved her words – fully intending to have it out with him later.

"So, you're the Grey Wardens are you?" Murdock asked on their approach, looking them both over before settling on Elissa with a sneer of disapproval. "I didn't think they made women Wardens."

"I suspect the darkspawn much care who kills them." Elissa muttered, crossing her arms in irritation.

"If you haven't noticed, there aren't any darkspawn around these parts... not yet anyway." Murdock replied, not caring that he'd offended her as he turned his attention back to Alistair, figuring him to be in charge as he was the man after all. "We aren't going to turn aside anyone who wants to help though. Don't take me for being an ingrate or nothing."

"Perish the thought..." Elissa groused, rolling her eyes at the man – but allowing Alistair to take over as it was clear the mayor had no desire to deal with a woman's directions.

"We **do** want to help, however we can." Alistair insisted, giving Elissa a look much like the ones he received when she wanted him to hold his tongue – then turning back to the mayor. "You can trust us."

"Name's Murdock," the man replied, extending his hand to Alistair in greeting. "Mayor of what's left of the village, provided we aren't all killed and hauled off to the castle tonight."

"Have good faith, man." Alistair encouraged, shaking the man's hand heartily and flashing his most convincing smile - a trick he'd seen Elissa put to use countless times. "We can defeat this evil together."

"I-I hope you're right." Murdock answered, offering a broken smile of his own in reply. "I've been trying to hold us together, but it isn't easy... anyhow, they tell me you lot are in charge now – so we're just awaiting orders."

"Is there anything that we can do to help with preparations?" Alistair inquired, remembering that Elissa always started out by gathering information on what had been done – and what needed to be done.

"We need the little armor and weapons we have repaired, and quickly, or half of us will be fighting without either," the Mayor replied, noting the quickly gathering twilight. "Owen is the only blacksmith who can do it, but the stubborn fool refuses to even talk to us. If we're to be ready for tonight we're going to need the crotchety bastard's help."

"One blacksmith to convince, got it." Alistair said, making a mental list of the things they needed to accomplish. "Anything else?"

"We could use some extra bodies, that's for sure." Murdock continued, looking at the motley group the Wardens had brought with them, then focusing back on Alistair. "Having a veteran like Dwyn in the militia would help a lot, but he flat out refuses. Dwarven merchant, lives near the lake back there. Locked himself up in his home with some of his workers, and won't come out."

"Aaaaaand one grumpy dwarf to recruit, check." Alistair continued, smiling again at the mayor who looked a bit concerned that his requests seemed to be taken so lightly by the odd man in front of him. "Well, off we go then."

Alistair strode forward confidently and knocked at the blacksmith's door.

"Go away, curse you!" Owen yelled in reply.

"Is that Owen, the blacksmith?" Alistair asked, ignoring Elissa's chuckle behind him and pretending it hadn't been stupid to ask the man in the blacksmith's house if he was the blacksmith when Murdock had just told them he was locked inside. "I need to discuss an urgent matter with you."

"Is that so? Well – I've discussed as much as I'm going to, now **go away**!" he yelled, and Alistair stepped back from the door, rubbing at his hair in frustration.

"Could I give it a try?" Elissa asked, her face showing nothing but a sincere desire to help, though he guessed somewhere beneath it she was also a bit pleased at his failure.

"Have at it." Alistair allowed, stepping out of the way with a wave of his hand and watching her move forward to lean against the door, making sure her voice would carry through the grain as she pitched it with the emotion she felt would best capture the blacksmith's attention.

"Owen, I realize that things out here don't really encourage one to open their door to strangers – but we **really** could use your help." Elissa said, her voice mostly pleading but laced with just the right amount of seduction.

"Oh, who is that?" the blacksmith answered, some of the gruffness leaving his voice – replaced with curiosity. "What do you want? I've been through enough."

"I'd prefer not to speak through a door, if that's alright." Elissa continued, inspecting the lock briefly in case she needed to pick it. "May I come in?"

"Alright, just don't make any trouble," the man replied, and to his surprise Alistair heard the locking mechanism click and watched the blacksmith swing open the door.

Elissa tossed a brilliant smile and a wink at him over her shoulder and flounced inside, quite proud of her persuasive abilities. Alistair was forced to acknowledge that she was quite good at knowing exactly what to say, and how to say it, in order to get what she wanted – a power he progressively more uncomfortable watching her put to use.

"Well, somebody's been drinking..." Alistair huffed, wrinkling his nose at the heavy scent of alcohol hanging in the air.

"So, I let you in." Owen said, ignoring the former Templar's commentary and eying Elissa carefully. "You wanted to talk, we're talking... mind telling me who you are?"

"You can call me Elissa," she answered, flashing a small smile – not overpowering, just enough to relax him.

"Name's Owen, though I suppose you know that..." the blacksmith replied with a hiccup, pouring two small shots of some sort of clear liquor. "Care to join me while I get besotted, or is there something in particular you wanted?"

"The militia needs your help, Owen." Elissa explained, tossing back the shot he offered her and watching as he did the same.

The alcohol was strong, but she forced herself not to stumble – knowing that she needed to present the illusion that she was capable of handling it to the man in front of her if she was to convince him to help them.

"Why should I help Murdock when he won't help me?" Owen retorted, harsh laughter crackling through his broken smile as he refilled their glasses. "My daughter is in that castle. She's been my life since my wife passed on two years ago, now she's dead... or soon to be. I don't care what happens to the village, to me, to anyone."

"So, your plan is to drink yourself to death then?" Alistair asked, stealthily placing a hand at Elissa's back to steady her as she wobbled a bit after drinking the second shot and hoping the smith didn't notice it.

"Why not?" he hissed, glaring at the Templar in frustration. "It's not like we're going to live past tonight anyway, or are you lot going to save us?"

"Yes, we are." Elissa replied - stifling a hiccup, then watching the smith's eyes move back to her and hoping she had managed to cover her increasing drunkenness behind her most assertive stare.

"Is that so?" Owen said, raising an eyebrow at her. "Maybe it's the drink talking, but you sound like you actually believe that. Tell you what... if you want my help, give me yours. I want your word you'll go to that castle and find my daughter."

"And what if she's dead?" Elissa asked, knowing that a castle full of undead didn't give them good odds of finding anyone still living within those walls.

"It – it would be better to know she was dead than to go to my grave knowing nothing at all," the man replied, taking a tug directly from the bottle to banish the thought.

"Alright then, I'll do my best." Elissa allowed, knowing full well how he felt – and wishing she had some idea how Fergus was doing, **if** he even remained alive.

"Not good enough!" Owen growled, shaking a finger at her. "I want your **word."**

"You are asking a **great** deal you wretched little man!" Morrigan retorted, narrowing her eyes angrily and moving forward to Elissa's side, furious that he was attempting to take advantage of her sympathetic heart as so many had already done.

"I **want** a promise!" the smith repeated, glaring at the witch – then back at Elissa.

"What's to stop me from lying to you?" Elissa asked, wondering if the man even cared, or if he simply wanted the gesture – empty or not.

"Nothing, besides your conscience." Owen replied, eying her carefully. "You look like a woman whose word means a great deal to her, so I doubt you give it lightly."

"The last time I checked, that was correct" Elissa allowed, standing unfaltering as he tried to read her.

"Then I'll take what I can get and leave the rest to the Maker's grace," he said, taking another long pull from the bottle.

"Very well, I give you my word." Elissa said, reaching over and sealing the deal with a shake of the smith's hand.

"Right then, I have a lot of work to do." Owen sniffed, slamming the bottle down on the table and stoking up the forge - sending them away with a wave of his hand. "Off with you!"

* * *

><p>The group shuffled out the door, moving on to the task of tracking down and recruiting Dwyn and his men.<p>

The dwarf's door was locked, and neither Alistair nor Elissa could get so much as a response from repeated knocking or shouting through the wood. Alistair was content with giving up, but Elissa refused – reaching into her hair for her lock-picks and making quick work of the latch.

Alistair frowned at her, but she just shrugged in response and pushed open the door, coming to a quick stop in front of an angry dwarf and two large armed men who stood just inside.

"Wonderful, intruders!" the dwarf grumbled, crossing his arms and glaring at them. "I hope you've good reason for breaking into my home."

"I apologize." Elissa smiled, curtseying lightly to him. "I didn't mean any harm."

"Apology accepted," he answered with a nod. "Name's Dwyn, pleased to meet you..." Alistair watched as Elissa stepped forward a bit, thinking to shake his hand. "Now, get out."

"We came because M-murdock says he needs you in the militia." Alistair managed to stutter out, barely concealing his laughter when the dwarf showed himself resistant to Elissa's charms.

"So what?" the dwarf sniffed, turning his angry eyes to the Templar. "You recruiting for him? I'll tell you what I told him then, I'm not risking my neck for this crappy town."

"There's nothing we could do to change your mind?" Elissa asked, glaring Alistair into silence as she renewed her efforts.

"Maybe... let's hear what you've got." Dwyn replied, running his eyes over the length of Elissa's body in appreciation of what she had to offer.

"How about I put in a good word for you with Bann Teagan, or the Arl?" Elissa offered, reading exactly what the dwarf might be looking for – but refusing to offer **that** unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Hmmm..." the dwarf said, tugging at his beard as he considered her offer, noting the angry way the larger human had been watching him since he had eyed the woman and deciding pressing any other option he may have been considering wasn't worth the chaos it was likely to inspire. "I bet you could pull that off. Fine, I'll throw in with the militia."

Elissa flashed her most impressive smile at him, and even the grumpy dwarf couldn't help but return it as she moved her people back to his door.

"You better be out there too, when this goes down – legs!" Dwyn called to her, tossing a wink he was certain would rile the Templar where he held the door for her – and smiling when it did exactly as he'd intended. "I'm not fighting for a lost cause, you hear me!"

"Legs?" Alistair guffawed, shaking his head when the door shut behind them and Elissa moved off to report their successes to Murdock. "That **would** be the only nickname a dwarf would think to give you."

"What's wrong with legs?" Leliana asked, watching Elissa glare at Alistair's quip before deciding to ignore him once again. "Elissa has very nice legs, quite shapely even under all that armor."

"Thank you, Leliana." Elissa smiled, looking at the woman with a bit of surprise when the bard did nothing to hide her own appreciation of Elissa's body. "It's nice when **someone** notices."

"Oh, the Templar notices." Morrigan insisted, watching Alistair turn angrily to her and try to hide the color blooming into his face. "I'm sorry... is there some **other** reason you watch her walking so... intently... Alistair?"

"Oh, bugger off – the lot of you!" Alistair spat, brushing past all of them in frustration and choosing to relay the information to Murdock on his own while the women chattered amongst themselves and Sten paced nearby in silent frustration at their frivolity.

* * *

><p>They wandered around the village a bit more, Elissa insisting they needed to at least make an effort to locate Kaitlyn's missing brother before meeting with Ser Perth near the upper boundary of the town.<p>

The last house they entered finally proved them successful, a banging within a nearby wardrobe drawing Elissa's attention as they made their way inside.

"Hello? Is someone in there?" Elissa asked, slowly approaching the doors.

"Go away!" came the little voice. "This isn't your home!"

"A small human." Sten grumbled, raising an eyebrow at her in silent conspiracy. "I say burn it out."

"Ahh!" the child yelped. "What are you doing? Alright, I'll come out!" He threw open the doors and stepped out in front of them, watching the smirk Elissa shared with the Qunari. "Please, don't hurt me. I'll go back to the Chantry if that's what you want. I didn't mean any harm."

"Your sister is looking for you, you know?" Elissa said, crossing her arms and pursing her lips at him.

"I know," the child replied, hanging his head. "I just... I didn't want to be at the Chantry anymore. Everyone is scared, and I wanted to be brave."

"How is hiding in a dresser brave?" Morrigan laughed, shaking her head at the silly boy.

"I wasn't **always **in there!" the boy retorted, glaring at the witch before turning back to Elissa. "I hid when I heard you coming in. I was... well, I shouldn't tell you... it's a secret."

"Are you sure?" Elissa pressed, using her least threatening voice. "Maybe I could help?"

"You... could?" the boy asked, inspecting her cautiously and finally accepting that she meant no harm. "Alright, I guess. My father said I could have his sword when I grew up. It was my grandfather's and he was a great dragon-slayer. I thought I could use it and kill the bad things that took mother."

"You had the right idea." Elissa encouraged, patting his back and smiling at him as she knelt down to meet his eyes at his own level. "You are indeed very brave."

"T-thank you miss," the boy replied, smiling broadly and blushing a little under her praise. "But, you see, the sword was too heavy for me. I guess I'm not as strong as I thought I was."

"Where is the sword now?" Elissa asked, reaching over to brush the boy's forehead gently, smoothing out his brow where it had wrinkled in frustration.

"In a chest in mother's room" he replied, biting his lip anxiously. "Father gave me a key, but I'm not supposed to give it to anyone."

"Well, how about we make a deal then?" Elissa offered, pulling her dagger loose from the sheath at her back. "I'll give you this, and use your grandfather's sword in its place. Then both of us can defend the village properly."

Alistair watched as the boy took Elissa's enchanted blade in his hands, eyes widening in surprise that she would offer such a thing to a perfect stranger. Her affection for the boy was clearly genuine, and Alistair felt his feelings toward her continuing to deepen as he looked in on the moment shared between them – his mind creating a Blightless world where she interacted with a different blonde haired child, one that looked up at her with her own green eyes and his smile – but he quickly shook the thought away and pulled himself back to the present.

"Well, go ahead, swing it! You must test how the blade feels in your hands if we are to determine it a good fit." Elissa encouraged, scooting back a bit and allowing him to wave it about.

"That's much better!" he smiled, reaching into his pocket and pressing something into her hand. "Here's the key to mother's chest. I'll go back to the Chantry to protect my sister. Thank you!"

The boy leaned forward suddenly, and planted a kiss right on Elissa's lips – her eyes widening in surprise before the boy disappeared out the door behind them. She chuckled as she brought herself back to her feet, running up the stairs to retrieve the sword quickly, then coming back down to join the others.

As they moved out the door she flicked the sword back and forth in her hands, gauging the weight of it and learning how it would feel in battle, before finally sheathing it at her back where the dagger had once been. The long blade was barbed and slightly warm to the touch, but it felt comfortable in her grasp – and she knew the blade had granted her its permission to be used.

"You can dual-wield two longswords?" Alistair asked, incredulously, her new sword appearing to be even heavier than the family sword she already carried. "Won't that be too heavy for you?"

"I actually prefer longswords over daggers." Elissa replied, smiling that he would still so thoroughly underestimate her. "Though I will need a dagger at some point, just in case speed becomes necessary over reach."

"You're just full of surprises..." he mused, trailing behind her as she pressed up the hill toward the tavern.

"That I am..." she chuckled, leaving the rest to his imagination, a road he was all too happy to allow his mind to go down.

* * *

><p>Elissa insisted they stop at the tavern to sell off some of the junk they had collected, and refill any of Morrigan's potion supplies they could – knowing there was unlikely to be another opportunity before the evening's battle ensued. As Alistair stood pawning off the large stack of stuff she had given him and purchasing anything Morrigan deemed necessary, Elissa noticed a shifty elf watching her from the corner and realized she had carelessly left her hood down after speaking with Teagan in the Chantry earlier. It was stupid to assume anywhere was safe after what had happened to them in Lothering.<p>

"What do you know about that elf in the corner?" Elissa whispered to the barmaid whose arm she had snagged softly when she walked past.

"Not much," the woman replied, leaning in closer in conspiracy. "He's very quiet. Says his name is Berwick and he's here to meet his brother... but I think he's lying. He's a bit creepy."

Elissa nodded, releasing the woman with a smile and moving over to where the elf sat at the bar across the room. Sten and Leliana moved behind her, and Alistair wanted to but couldn't because Morrigan had several things she still wished for him to acquire - but he could see that the witch's eyes followed the other Warden carefully.

"Not looking for company," the elf spat, turning himself away from her as she approached.

"I hear you're Berwick." Elissa said, ignoring his dismissal and settling herself methodically into the chair across from him.

"What? How did you know that?" he replied, eyes widening as he struggled to ignore her movements, which she was choosing specifically to draw him in. "Err... well, yes... that's my name, why?"

"You seem **awfully** nervous..." Elissa drawled, making a great show of crossing her long legs as she leaned against the bar, stroking lightly at the grain of the wood as she met the elf's eyes. "Why is that?"

"I... no reason" he managed to stutter, gulping as he became mesmerized by the seductive motion of her fingers against the bar. "I just... didn't know how you knew my name, that's all."

"I asked around." Elissa said simply, shrugging her shoulders and leaning in closer to the elf – noting but not acknowledging that Alistair and Morrigan had now joined the others just outside the elf's perception. "I can be... very... persuasive..."

"Oh... I-I... see" Berwick said, his voice half strangled as he scrambled to increase the distance between himself and the seductive woman across from him. "Look, you're very pretty and all... but I was told to... err... just leave me alone."

"What do you mean?" Elissa said, moving in for the kill – knowing she had the man just where she wanted him and refusing to release him from her grasp until she knew everything he could tell her. "What were you told to do?"

"Nothing! Nobody told me to do anything!" the elf insisted, moving his hand away where her fingers had started to stroke lightly at his skin. "Just because you're a Grey Warden doesn't mean you can go around threatening people!"

"Oh, come now... I've yet to threaten you... I promise, you'd know if I did..." Elissa chuckled, her voice sultry and low as she leaned back in her chair and ran the toes of her boot lightly against the outside of the man's leg. "This will be much easier if you just tell me what it is you're hiding... I assure you, I'll get to the truth one way or another."

"If I... but I never..." Berwick fumbled, scrambling away from her completely as desire and fear warred in his eyes. "Oh, alright! This is more than I bargained for! They just paid me to watch the castle and send word if anything started to change," he explained, rubbing at his hair uncomfortably. "They never said **anything** about monsters! I haven't been able to report anything since this started. I'm stuck here same as you, I swear!"

"Who are **they**?" Elissa asked, leaving her ruse behind as her mind started to understand just what the elf was saying to her – even before he had admitted it. "Who hired you to do this?"

"A tall fellow... I forget his name," the elf said, waving his hand about lightly – breathing a sigh of relief as he mistakenly took her change in demeanor for her acceptance of his innocence, and not the threat that it was. "He said he was working for Howe... Arl Rendon Howe," the elf continued, and Alistair saw the flash of fury alight in her eyes at those words – though the elf remained ignorant of the now **very** dangerous woman across from him. "He's an important man, you know, Teyrn Loghain's right hand... so I did nothing wrong!"

"How did this happen?" Elissa demanded, standing so quickly the chair behind her clattered to the floor as she leaned forward to grab the elf and yank his face within inches of her own. "Tell me now!"

"I-I don't know anything about these creatures!" Berwick yelped, realizing too late what he'd done and knowing he couldn't escape her now. "They just sent me to watch! I thought I was serving the King and making some coin on the side, you have to believe me!"

"I **believe** you should have chosen your loyalties more carefully." Elissa hissed, sliding the elf's own dagger from his belt and jamming it directly into his heart – watching his eyes widen, then dull as the life flowed out of him.

He slumped forward in his chair, appearing to the room around him as though he might be sleeping, and she rifled through his pockets until she found the contract on her life that Howe himself had signed. She was fuming as she shoved it into Alistair's hands and stomped back to the door.

"Elissa, surely that was unnecessary..." Leliana began, clearly upset with her decision to kill yet another of Howe's lackeys.

"**Shove it**, sister!" Elissa hissed dangerously, turning on the woman and watching her stagger back into the wall in fear. "I warned you what I would do if I found another of Howe's trackers. If you don't like the way I deal with them, then I suggest you rethink your Maker assigned task – because I intend to kill every single one of them I find on my way to the snake himself."

Leliana nodded in fright, and Elissa spun, pushing the door open with such force that it slammed against the wall outside as she exited.

"You're going to have to do something about her, Alistair!" Leliana whispered, trying to stop herself from shaking. "Her rage is consuming her."

"Me? What am I supposed to do?" Alistair said, moving the rest of them out the door and watching Elissa stride angrily over the bridge to where Ser Perth was waiting. "I'm fairly certain she's going to kill me half the time as that rage is often pointed in my direction."

"But you could reach her, if you tried." Leliana insisted, regaining her composure and her focus. "And you **must** try. She needs something else in her heart to replace vengeance, otherwise we may lose her to it completely."

"What could I possibly offer her?" Alistair asked, taking in a deep breath.

"Love, Alistair... you could offer her love." Leliana replied, watching him turn to her in surprise. "Oh, come now, we've all seen how you look at her. It's clear you care for her, and she cares for you too, though you both seem intent on ignoring that fact."

"I don't know what you're talking about..." Alistair said, shaking his head and increasing his pace as though he could outrun the truth of her words.

"Well, you'd better figure it out – before it's too late..." Leliana insisted, allowing herself to be left behind.

* * *

><p>When the others reached the top of the hill, Elissa was already engaged in conversation with Eamon's knight.<p>

"I must admit, I do not know quite how to address you." Ser Perth said, smiling broadly at Elissa – his silverite armor gleaming in the setting sun. "Is my Lady sufficient?"

"I'd prefer you call me Elissa, if you would," she replied, allowing him to take and lay a kiss on her hand. "I've never been one for ceremony, and that title hardly applies now."

"As you wish, Elissa." the knight replied, releasing her hand with a nod of his head. "With a Warden such as you on our side, perhaps all is not lost."

_Ugh... not this __**again**_**,** Alistair thought, trying to calm his frazzled nerves after a long day of suppressing his feelings of animosity toward a longer and longer list of townspeople. _How many men am I going to have to watch fawn over her on a daily basis before I finally lose my mind?_

"We've completed your Mayor's list of tasks, have you anything for us to do?" Elissa asked, all of her fury carefully hidden back beneath her facade of calm and polite ceremony.

"We have sufficient armor and weapons..." the knight mused, rubbing at his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps you could approach Mother Hannah in the Chantry for some holy protection against the creatures? Otherwise, I do not know what you could provide beyond your own personal talents."

"I will speak with the Mother and see what I can do." Elissa replied, forcefully ignoring Alistair's snort at Ser Perth's mention of her talents.

"It gladdens my heart to hear it." Ser Perth replied, clearly oblivious to Alistair's chagrin.

"Have you considered utilizing the oil I saw in the village store?" Elissa inquired, looking around and seeing several spots they could place the barrels where they would not threaten to damage nearby structures.

"No one told me of this... oil, you say?" the knight asked, following her gaze. "How much exactly?"

"More than enough to set a gang of monsters aflame." Elissa replied, chuckling menacingly.

"Assuming that hurts them..." Perth offered.

"Well, corpses **do **burn, and what burns eventually becomes ash." Elissa expounded logically. "I doubt ash can hurt us, aside from making us sneeze a bit." The knight chuckled, but followed her as she pointed out several spots she thought best and explained why they couldn't use the oil to protect the village below, for fear of an uncontrollable outbreak of fire.

"Yes, I see what you have in mind!" the knight said, as they came back to stand with the rest of Elissa's companions. "I'll send some men to collect it. A most excellent idea, my lady."

He bowed deeply to her, kissing her hand once again as they took their leave and moved back into the village to make the requests of the Chantry mother. Alistair seethed in barely contained fury, and dropped to the back of the group to prevent her from seeing it.

* * *

><p>Elissa stopped to talk to Kaitlyn just inside the Chantry, watching her smile with relief as Bevin stood in pride beside her.<p>

"Bevin said you were the one who found him!" the woman said, shaking her hand in grateful excitement. "I cannot possibly repay you!"

"About this sword..." Elissa said, pulling the blade from her back and holding it for the woman to see.

"Yes, Bevin said he gave The Green Blade to you in exchange for his dagger." Kaitlyn acknowledged the sword with a nod. "It is the **least** I can give you for my brother's life."

"It's a very valuable sword." Elissa explained, having heard its given name only solidifying what she had already suspected. "I must insist you take something for it." She re-sheathed the weapon, reaching into her pack and retrieving one of the coin purses there, briefly peering inside before tossing it to Bevin with a smile. "That's a hundred silver, would that be sufficient?"

"An honorable act." Sten said, pride evident in his words and an almost smile crossing his usually impassive features.

"Did you think me an ungrateful heathen, Sten?" Elissa replied, winking at him and watching him shrug in reply.

"T-thank you!" Kaitlyn gasped. "That's a lot of coin!"

"Promise me you'll stay safe." Elissa said, holding the woman's eyes for a moment before kneeling to tousle Bevin's hair and address him separately. "**Both **of you."

"The Maker himself sent you!" Kaitlyn gasped, her eyes filling with tears again as Elissa stood again. "I just know it!"

Elissa ignored Leliana's fervent reassertion of the same thing as she separated from the group to go and make Ser Perth's request to the Mother. When she finally agreed to send a messenger with a box of blessed Chantry medallions, Elissa went to talk to Teagan.

A few moments later, she disappeared out the Chantry doors.

* * *

><p>Alistair sat in one of the Chantry's side apses fuming as he watched his uncle once again fawning over Elissa as she regaled him with partial details of their experience at Soldier's Peak. She tossed her head back, laughing at something he said – and Teagan made a great show of patting her knee lightly as he leaned in and whispered something else into her ear – causing her to burst into laughter again.<p>

He didn't want to watch any more, but he simply **couldn't** stop himself – getting a brief reprieve when Elissa finally excused herself and walked out the front door.

He thought about following her, but didn't get the chance before Morrigan sat down beside him.

"I have something to ask you," the witch said, watching him with her hawkish eyes.

"Just the one thing?" Alistair hoped, a lengthy conversation with Morrigan was the **last** thing he needed after the day he'd had.

"For the moment." Morrigan said, crossing her hands in her lap. "I only wonder why you chose to deceive us about your parentage?"

"And here I figured you'd be the one person who understood all about deception." Alistair snorted in reply.

"Oh, I do," the witch admitted, laughing a bit herself – though there was no joy in it. "And yet, what use was your deception following the death of your King Cailan? Surely the need for it perished with him, did it not?"

"Maybe..." Alistair sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his fingers against them in frustration. "I guess I was sort of hoping it would just... go away."

"The truth does not **go away**, Alistair." Morrigan huffed, crossing her arms.

"I didn't say it was a good plan..." Alistair snipped, done with the conversation and needing to be away from everything around him.

He pushed out the Chantry doors, not sure exactly where he was going, but eventually finding himself on the docks of Lake Calenhad, which was exactly – as fate would have it – where Elissa had gone.

Her boots were on the ground beside her, and she sat with her bare feet dangling in the cool water – eyes fixed on some distant spot in the sky.

The light from the setting sun played in the red of her hair, and Leliana's words floated back to him.

_Love, Alistair... you could offer her love_, Leliana had said. _Oh, come now, we've all seen how you look at her. It's clear you care for her, and she cares for you too, though you both seem intent on ignoring that fact._

He took a deep breath, striding over to her and taking a seat at her side – though he did not trail his legs over the edge of the dock.

"If you've come to fight, Alistair... can we just **not?**" Elissa sighed, her previously relaxed posture tensing at his presence. "I just want a few moments peace before the apocalypse begins."

"I'm not here to fight," he assured her, knowing her reaction was justified – but wishing he hadn't caused it none-the-less. "I'm here to apologize." She turned to him in surprise, but did not interrupt. "My behavior today was... inexcusable."

"You're worse than Fergus, and he made an art form of menacing anyone who dared take a liking to his little sister," she snipped, furrowing her brow at him for a moment then turning back to look at the sunset – kicking her feet lightly through the water. "And, just so we're clear... I have **no** romantic interest in Teagan, Alistair."

"Really?" Alistair asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief – it certainly hadn't looked that way.

"Yes, **really**!" Elissa insisted, frowning at him before sighing deeply. "It was just nice to talk to someone who had known me **before** all of this... someone who didn't look at me as though I could break apart at any moment... someone who remembered what I used to be."

"I see..." he said, and he realized he actually **did** – Teagan reminded her of a different time, one that was not consumed by nightmares and battles and despair, and she had welcomed it.

"Don't get me wrong, I **hated** that world... for the most part," she continued, smiling sadly as she thought about the few things – or one thing – she didn't hate, at least for a while. "But, it seems so much simpler in comparison... I guess it was just nice to go back there for a moment."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, Alistair watching her carefully for any sign that she might want him to leave her alone – and when he saw nothing, he started to remove his own boots to join her in the water.

"So... all this time we've spent together… you know, the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battles all the while the whole Blight thing looming over us." Alistair started, tossing his boots to the side and tossing his legs over the edge of the dock. "Will you miss it once it's over?"

"Oh yes... it makes me tear up just thinking about it!" Elissa laughed, shaking her head at him.

"There will be no more running for our lives... no more darkspawn... no more camping in the middle of nowhere..." he chuckled, clearing his throat awkwardly when he realized he wouldn't really miss the whole camping part – not camping with her anyway.

"Wait... were you asking if I'd miss all this mess, or if I'd miss you?" she said, her feet stilling as she leaned forward and turned her body toward him - sensing something different in his voice and unsure what to make of it, though she could not deny the idea that he might miss her was an appealing one.

"I-I know it... might sound strange, considering we haven't known each other for very long," Alistair said, forcing himself to get the words out – knowing she'd caught him in it and there was no turning back now, "but... I've come to care for you, a great deal." He heard her soft gasp beside him, but determined not to look at her, afraid he would lose the will to go forward if he saw the rejection he was certain was written on her face. "I think maybe it's because we've gone through so much together, I don't know... or maybe I'm imagining it... maybe I'm fooling myself... but then, sometimes you look at me and I can swear that..." he looked up suddenly, catching her emerald eyes with his amber ones and seeing something flash there that gave him the courage to press forward. "Am I? Fooling myself? Or do you think you might ever... feel the same for me?"

"I don't know." Elissa replied, struggling to slow her rapidly beating heart and force herself to appear calm in light of this new revelation. "It's too soon to say."

"Well, is it too soon for this?" he asked, suddenly possessed by the urge to kiss her and unable to suppress it.

He reached forward and gripped the side of her face, leaning into her and brushing his lips across hers lightly, unsure of how exactly to proceed as he had never done such a thing before. At first she tensed, not responding – only allowing him to press against her – and for a moment he panicked, thinking she did not want it, but then – her hand was on his jaw and her lips were moving against his, opening and allowing his tongue to slide inside and taste her. He pulled back, needing to catch his breath.

"I'll need more testing to be sure," she said breathlessly, smiling as she leaned forward to press her forehead to his.

"I'll have to arrange that then, won't I?" Alistair laughed, reclaiming her mouth and feeling her slide into his lap – winding her hands around his neck and forcing his arms to fall around her waist.

Alistair was very thankful he was fully armored, as her insistent tongue was making it difficult for him to keep his body's reaction to her under control. He couldn't believe how right she felt, and how wonderful it was to finally give himself over to the emotions that had been building in him from the moment they met.

Elissa lost herself in the sensations coursing through her body at the touch of his lips on her own. She had allowed herself to be given over to such emotions only one other time, and had not kissed another man since then. Her mind drifted briefly to that morning on the ramparts of Castle Cousland and the way it had felt to hand herself over to Nathaniel so completely. This moment was similar and yet couldn't have been more different, and she found that she didn't want whatever this new thing was to be tarnished by the past; so she forced the memory away and allowed herself to be fully consumed by the present… by Alistair's sweet innocence and the warmth of his body against her own, even through all their armor.

They probably would have kept at it right through the onslaught of monsters, were it not for Morrigan's angry hiss behind them.

"Ugh... I'll never be able to burn that out of my mind..." the witch grimaced, looking as though she might be sick at any moment. "the shiny one is looking for you, Elissa," Morrigan explained, assuming the other woman would know she meant Ser Perth from her description "night will soon fall and the monsters could come at any moment. It is best that we get whatever it is we're going to do underway."

Elissa nodded, across Alistair's shoulder – watching the woman shake her head in disgust before pacing away to rejoin the others.

"Yes..." Alistair said, clearing his throat as she moved out of his lap and stood, offering her hands to help him up. "Let's get back to what we were up to, lest I forget why we're here."

Elissa laughed, leaning over and kissing him once more then moving to grab her boots and padding up the hill to prepare.


	17. Chapter 17: From The Journal Of Nathanie

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** Inspiration/theme for this chapter comes from Ground by Assemblage 23._

_Thanks to all my readers, followers, lurkers and reviewers out there! I love you all, and welcome any comments or suggestions :) _

_Extra special hugs to my Lady Beta **artemiskat** this time as the layout of this chapter was born from her idea._

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Seventeen: From The Journal Of Nathaniel Howe<strong>_

It took me nearly two years of steady – well, let's call it courtship because that's certainly what it felt like – for me to convince Nathaniel Howe to directly acknowledge his relationship with The Hero. I'd thought Fenris had been difficult to crack, but Howe made the broody elf look chatty in comparison.

Even when I finally did get the gruff archer to speak of her, he said very little – mostly watched her from across the dim half light of The Hanged Man and nursed his ale as was his normal routine. After an hour or so like that, he stood to go, and I thought that was pretty much all I was going to get… but he surprised me – reached into his pack and pulled out a beat up old journal which he tossed down in front of me, watching it hit the table with a smack.

"Anything worth knowing you'll find in there," he rasped, tossing back the last of his beer then putting the mug back on the table with a hollow thump. "And, if it finds its way into anyone's hands but yours, then I suppose we'll finally find out which of us is the better marksman."

"Duly noted," I replied with a smile, watching him move across the bar to where The Hero stood waiting, laying his hand at the small of her back as he opened the door and escorted her into the night.

As soon as I cracked the cover I realized the wealth of information he'd just dropped into my lap.

What I now held in my eager little fingers was not some random book but his personal journal – one of many as it would turn out – and the way that he chose to keep a record his thoughts gave more insight into the inner workings of the man than anything he had written.

* * *

><p>Excerpt from the journal of Nathaniel Howe:<p>

_Lissa,_

_Well, it's official… I have finally gone mad. Though, considering I've been writing letters never sent for years and am likely now writing them to a dead woman, I suppose it's possible that I have **been** mad for a while now…_

_I like to imagine that you can still hear me, whether over the great expanse of the Waking Sea that separated us before or through the fog of The Fade itself if you are indeed departed from this world… _

_I like to think that if you do hear me, you're proud... that I'm finally becoming the man I should have embraced long ago, the man that you always deserved._

_I finally did it, Lissa. I disobeyed a direct order from Father, something I should have done years before now. Something I should have done for **you** when you asked it of me. Would that I had… we'd be living in sin somewhere – until I found the coin to make an honest woman out of you, probably not in Ferelden but that would have mattered little if it kept us together… if it kept you alive._

_I have the strangest dreams… and you are there, always - my one constant, my guide, the torchlight in my forest of shadow. Lately… dark things, things I could not name until I saw them outside The Fade with my own eyes, have invaded them and claimed them as their own. Darkspawn, Elissa, and Grey Wardens - I have seen both. You would have been chasing after the Wardens with a million questions - of this I have no doubt. They are the only two left alive in Ferelden… and one of them is a woman._

_ I remember all those books we read in your library so many years ago, hours of conversation coming back to me in the blink of an eye as though it was only yesterday I had been your student in the history of the Order of the Grey… and that silly fight we had, do you remember? You were so arrogant back then, and so angry with me for calling you on it… of course, I could be pretty unbearable myself – so I suppose we can share in the blame for our stormy beginning._

_How I wish you were here beside me. This strange journey made bearable in the warmth of your company. I am alone, out of necessity more than anything. I know not who I can trust, foul things are afoot in our homeland – far more than those made of The Blight alone, it is sad to say. All the information I get is confused, at odds with itself – either my father and Teyrn Loghain seek to take over Ferelden and have destroyed everything and everyone in their paths to do so, the Order of the Grey included, or they work to save it from the Wardens who are seek to take over and enslave us once again with the aid of the Orlesian army. I cannot yet decipher the truth of it. _

_So here I am, a stranger in a land that was once my home, hoping to find a way to make sense of it all. No matter how hard I try, I cannot rid myself of the feeling that all of this is somehow connected to the massacre in Highever - and that upsets me far more than anything else.  
><em>

_I will not fail you, Elissa, not again. I will know what has happened to you, and why, I swear it._

* * *

><p>Quite some time later, I returned the first volume to him and he handed the second to me in wordless exchange. I could have walked out the door of the posh Hightown estate he shared with The Hero when they were in Kirkwall for one reason or another – but, being <strong>me<strong>, of course – I couldn't leave well enough alone.

"So I'm curious," I asked him, not turning fully around, simply glancing back over my shoulder and giving myself ample time to get around the door frame should my inquest push the moody archer into testing our marksmanship after all. "If you thought she'd left you, if you thought she'd betrayed you, if you thought her dead… why continue to write your letters to her?"

"I barely spoke before I opened myself up to her - certainly never of feelings or personal matters... when I lost her… I tried to go back to the silence that had once been so natural to me, but I found myself unable do so," he explained, his long legs stretched out toward the fire in front of him where he sat waiting for The Hero to return from wherever it was she had gone. "I could no longer bottle things away and ignore them, I needed to talk to someone… but I could only talk to her, and so I constructed her from memory, to be there when she was not."

"Do you still keep a journal?" I continued, relaxing enough to lean against the edge of the door frame.

"I do," he answered, eyes unmoving from the flames in front of him – the inflection in his voice giving away nothing of what emotion may be simmering in his mind.

"Do you still keep the **same** journal?" I dared to expound.

"Perhaps another time when I am feeling more… civil… we can discuss such things," he rumbled, turning his stormy grey gaze from the fire long enough for me to see the threat lurking there.

I suddenly understood that his vigil by the hearth was not of his choosing. The Hero had disappeared again, as she was want to do, and either he had no idea where she had gone... or he knew **exactly** where she had gone and did not approve of it. Either way - it was doing nothing to put the man into a more cooperative mood, and so I slipped the new volume into my pack and bid him farewell - tabling my questions for another time.


	18. Chapter 18: Reign of the Demon Child

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale._

_**A/N:** Special thanks to the wonderful reviews I have gotten recently :) I love to hear from you all!_

_Kudos to my Lady Beta **artemiskat**._

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Eighteen: Reign Of The Demon Child<strong>_

As the sun set across the village of Redcliffe, the tension in the air was palpable. The majority of the townspeople had been packed into the Chantry for safety, left in the care of Bann Teagan and the two guards Elissa had insisted remain inside with him in case their worst fears should be realized. Outside, Mayor Murdock and a small group comprised of ten of the surviving village militiamen, now outfitted in the repaired armor and upgraded weaponry that the drunken but talented Owen had provided for them, stood watch for anything that might break the ranks of the larger force above.

Just outside the windmill on the upper boundaries of the town, Elissa had gathered the majority of their forces; Ser Perth and the few knights that had chosen to remain in Redcliffe or had been recalled from their quest, Dwyn and his burly bodyguards, the remaining soldiers of the castle guard, and her own companions.

As per her instruction, Ser Perth and his men had laid out the barrels of oil for easy ignition and maximum effect. Elissa had set Leliana at the ready with Morrigan, the witch prepared to set her arrow alight with a small fire spell just before the bard sent it flying into the incendiaries. With any luck, the wall of flame the explosion created would be enough to remove a number of the undead forces from the equation – if not, Elissa hoped it would at **least** surprise them, if indeed the undead were capable of such an emotion.

"Are you ready?" Alistair asked, his soft rich voice drawing Elissa forth from her musing.

"As ready as one can be to face off against an army of undead, I suppose." Elissa chuckled in response, offering her companion a light smile.

She watched his eyes move over her face, lingering on her full lips as something bloomed to life once again within the amber depths of his own, and she thought for a moment he might kiss her again – before the startled yelp of a guardsman alerted them to movement from outside the castle gates.

"They're coming!" the man yelled, staggering away from the front of the group where he had been standing and trying to take some small amount of comfort from surrounding himself in the bodies of the other men.

Elissa turned her face from Alistair's and drew her blades, not sure what to expect from the great green cloud that bore down upon them. It moved like smoke, and for a long time there was nothing visible within it. This left her scrambling for a new battle plan should the "evil" they faced turn out to be incorporeal.

_How does one fight **fog**?_ she wondered, having to try hard not to laugh at the thought of it.

As the edge of the haze reached the boundaries of the crude barricades they had erected in order to herd their enemies into the clutches of their carefully laid flame trap, she began to make out the shadowy edges of bodies inside of it – the thick forms lumbering with broken jerks, their limbs flailing about in a way that made it very clear that though the bodies moved… they most certainly did not live.

Elissa turned her eyes to the bard, holding up a hand in silent instruction to wait just a moment longer… then dropping it as the bulk of the zombie horde stumbled into the midst of their trap. At that moment the tip of Leliana's arrow bloomed into life with Morrigan's flame crackling around it, and she let it fly into the spot she had targeted – setting off the string of innocuous barrels into a raging barrier of flame all around them.

Wave after wave of the creatures lumbered about in the fire, and though they made no sounds it was clear that it pained their bodies - and the defending forces watched as the monsters flailed about trying in vain to extinguish the parts of them that had caught fire. Elissa had made sure that everyone in her company was armed with a weapon capable of ranged attacks, be it was a manual bow or a cross bow; throwing daggers or, in Morrigan's case, spells – and so the group launched their projectiles against the already injured masses of bodies, sending one after another of them crumbling to the ground.

Eventually, the numbers waned, until there were no more than a handful of the monsters remaining – and these were easily cut down by swords and axes, leaving the invaders defeated. Elissa peered up toward the castle, waiting for another wave – but after several minutes, it became clear that no more would come, and so she signaled for Morrigan to use her ice spells to quell the fires they had started, preventing an accidental spread into the village below.

"I cannot believe how well that worked!" Ser Perth exclaimed, smiling at Elissa as he strode to her side. "Truly, you are a master tactician, my Lady!"

"Thank you, Ser Perth." Elissa replied, smiling slightly – though Alistair could see the expression was troubled and did not light her worried eyes. "But I am left with a feeling of unrest… Bann Teagan insisted these attacks lasted throughout the night and were launched with a force much greater than those we have routed…"

"Perhaps, my uncle was mistaken." Alistair offered, a wry grin taking over his face. "The man has been known, on occasion, to exaggerate **quite** a bit."

"This isn't some rehashing of a tale of conquest or battle that he would embellish in order to prove his virility, Alistair," she huffed, her discontent at a now unpredictable situation combining with his continued jealousy of Teagan to peak her irritation again. "I see no reason he would exaggerate the forces we would be up against. That would do nothing to help our cause, and you saw how worried he was for Arl Eamon… he would not deceive us when that could delay any rescue efforts we might provide."

Alistair started to respond - knowing he had unintentionally earned her wrath once again, but was prevented from doing so by a yell from one of the militiamen who had sprinted up the hill from the village below.

"My Lady!" the man yelled, frantically searching for Elissa's face among the crowd gathered there, "Lady Elissa!"

"I am here!" Elissa yelled back, jogging over to meet him.

"I was sent to find you, you must come down to the village now!" the man panted, his eyes dark orbs of terror in his exhausted face. "We are overwhelmed by those creatures; they have swarmed the village from below!"

"No!" Elissa gasped, covering her mouth in horror and standing in stunned silence, before blinking it away and moving back into battle mode.

She left Ser Perth and a small company of his men at the top in case more should enter from the upper boundaries, though she doubted that would happen as the upper attack had clearly been a diversion created to allow the creatures to break into the village where the larger concentration of bodies lay. Elissa kicked herself for not figuring out sooner what was driving the army of undead… what else would a zombie horde desire above fresh bodies with which to add to its force?

"Stop." Alistair whispered, moving just beside her as he always did.

"Stop what?" Elissa retorted, a bit more sharply than she'd intended – but unable to muster the concern to correct herself at the moment.

"Stop beating yourself up for not knowing what was coming," he replied, his voice remaining a comfort in spite of her venom.

"These people came to us to help them," she answered, brushing some wayward curls of hair back behind her ears as they ran. "They counted on us, on **me**, and my error could very well cost them their lives."

"Elissa…" Alistair said, trying to reason with her – but she would hear no more as they approached the village from above and she could see, with absolute horror, the devastation before them.

At least thirty corpses assaulted the few men they had left outside the Chantry, and more staggered through the tree line intent to join the fray. Murdock had already fallen, Elissa could see his prone form lying broken and bloody on the ground – and the few militiamen who remained were close to falling under the mounting tide of monsters that set down upon them.

In the blink of an eye, Elissa was gone from her position at Alistair's shoulder, sprinting ahead of the group and barreling into the mass of corpses; a maelstrom of leather and steel spinning hatefully against the encroaching enemy forces.

Alistair had not seen her fight since she had consumed Avernus' potion, well… only against the decaying corpse that had once been Sophia Dryden, and that battle had been so short he did not count it, because what he saw now was so much different.

Elissa darted from body to body, slicing and hacking each one apart with deadly efficiency. She was brutal, fast, and unyielding. As the battle waged on, the group did everything they could to hold back the unending waves of reanimated bodies sent down upon them from the castle above… but when minutes gave way to hours and still the night drew on, Alistair began to lose hope that they would last through the night.

The few militiamen that had remained on their arrival had quickly fallen, having been so injured during the initial assault they were unable to do much more than await their fate with as much dignity as possible. The rest of the group had either fallen to exhaustion and fear, or was struggling against both while the tide of incoming attacks showed no sign that it was waning. Sten seemed unaffected, though the blade he swung was likely heavier than Alistair himself even in his armor… and Elissa, Elissa seemed to **thrive** on it! With every wave of monstrosities, her fury grew, and as her fury grew – so too grew her ardor in battle.

He shared a concerned glance with Morrigan, the lyrium addled witch panting and dripping in sweat from having to fight off a couple of the creatures with her staff until Leliana had been able to dispatch them. Though they may have held no love for one another, they did share a mutual concern for Elissa, and they were both equal parts awestruck and afraid of the changes they could already see coursing through her body.

He looked to Elissa again, watching her current target break into a pile of dismembered limbs in front of her, twitching slightly as she moved forward to engage the next one… but just as she swiped out a sword to take off its head, it dropped lifelessly to the ground before her. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she turned to Alistair, watching the two he had been fighting against do the same. All around them the corpses dropped to the ground, losing their will to fight as the sun began to retake the sky. Elissa kicked at one of them with the toe of her boot, but it had no reaction to her inspection.

Around them murmurs of relief started to rumble through the survivors, the subtle gasps of praise and wonder soon erupting into full-fledged joy when it became certain they had taken the night.

Alistair sheathed his weapon and anchored his shield and made his way over to Elissa, watching as she wiped her blades clean and put them at her back. She smiled at him and took a step forward as he came to a stop beside her, then suddenly collapsed against his chest – the delirium that had driven her through the battle fading from her and the exhaustion that set in had left her barely able to stand.

He brushed his hand along her jaw, wondering what she had done to call upon such a vast well of power and energy… and what it had cost her to do so. She looked up at him, the emerald gems of her eyes swirling with a mix of exhaustion and relief – and then suddenly, with a flash of something he recognized as pure desire, she was kissing him – arms wound tight around his neck, fingers threading into the hair at the nape of his neck, tongue sliding into his mouth and dancing with his own. The pulse of her desire passed through her and into him, shooting through his body like a lance and refusing to be ignored. He knew their entire company, hell – the entire village was probably watching them, but he didn't care. This beautiful, incredible woman was kissing him, and he would be a fool to resist it.

They remained that way until the soldiers and knights swarming around them broke them apart, and they found themselves surrounded by the villagers who began pouring out of the Chantry into the rising light of dawn. The crowd was ecstatic, full of mirthful joy, and though they applauded all who had fought through the night for their contributions – Elissa in particular seemed to draw them like moths to a flame. Alistair watched as the encroaching crowd, all of them wanting to speak to or lay their hands upon the woman who had brought their salvation, pushed him further and further away from her side. She caught his eyes over the top of the crowd, shrugging her shoulders at him with a sheepish grin and he tilted his head at her in recognition – settling himself with the rest of their company near the doors to the Chantry where Teagan had finally emerged.

"She's quite a woman, isn't she?" his uncle asked, smiling brightly down into the crowd where Elissa's red head could be seen bobbing jovially as she conversed with one person or another.

"That she is…" Alistair replied, sighing deeply in awe as he considered the idea that for the moment – she had chosen **him**, of all people, to walk beside her. "That she is…"

* * *

><p>When the sun was high enough to burn off the remainder of the misty darkness from the previous night, Teagan gathered everyone to the front of the Chantry to speak briefly on what had occurred during the night, and on what the plan was for moving forward.<p>

He had asked Elissa and her company to stand with him, as they had been directly responsible for the success of their battle against the castle's forces of evil, and it was not lost on him that Alistair stayed close at her side – his suspicions that something had changed between them verified when the young man reached over to take her gloved hand into the gauntlet of his own and she tilted her face to his with a brilliant smile.

Swallowing his slight disappointment, for Elissa was indeed a desirable woman, he turned to address the crowd gathered before him. He offered his thanks to all those who had battled against the undead masses and kept the town safe to the new dawn. He offered words of tender remorse for the lives that had been lost in the process, and then issued instructions for cleanup and repair to begin in case the next night should bring more of the same.

"Truly, I must thank you, dear Lady." Teagan said, turning to Elissa with a broad smile and a twinkle in his eye – forgoing his normal formal kiss to her hand in light of her new connection to his nephew and the tension he had seen it cause between them the day before. "The Maker himself smiled on us when he sent you here in our darkest hour."

"I did not do this alone," she insisted, ignoring his mention of the Maker and the way that Leliana nodded her agreement. "It was only with the help of my companions and all others that fought and died along side us that the tide of this battle was stemmed in our favor."

"Beautiful **and** humble…" Teagan grinned, glancing to see Alistair's brow furrow at his attentions. "I credit everyone who fought, certainly, but take credit where credit is due my dear. The townspeople are calling you the _Savior of Redcliffe_, and even grumpy old Dwyn bowed before your battle prowess. Claimed you fought like a woman possessed, like nothing he had ever seen before." He noted the curious glance that passed between Alistair and the witch behind Elissa's back, but could not read its intent and so turned his focus back to Elissa, "I am almost sad to have missed it."

"Well, I am happy to have helped… in whatever capacity." Elissa said airily, clearing her throat and quickly changing the subject before the attention made her any more uncomfortable. "May I suggest that we press our advantage and make a move on the castle? We must discover the root cause of this evil in order to stop it, and my gut tells me that the root lies within the castle walls. I, myself, would be more comfortable making an assault while daylight burns in the sky – and the longer we stand here extolling my **many** virtues, truthfully or no, the more of this day we are losing."

"I agree, come – I have something to show you…" Teagan insisted, escorting Elissa and her companions up to the Windmill at the top border of the town.

Ser Perth and his knights still lingered there and the man tossed Elissa a bright smile and a wave of his gauntleted hand on her arrival.

"Odd how quiet the castle looks from here." Teagan said, looking at it morbidly. "You would think there was nobody inside at all. But I shouldn't delay us further. I have a plan… you see, there is a secret passage, here in the mill, accessible only to members of my family."

"Why didn't you mention this before?" Elissa inquired, eyebrow rising in an expression Alistair recognized all too well as frustration, having been on the receiving end of it one too many times.

"Because I knew you would go straight for the castle to seek the source of the disturbance, rather than stay to protect the village… and we… **I** needed your help," the nobleman struggled to explain; watching Elissa cross her arms and inspect him with a look of irritation and mistrust. "I am sorry for the deception, I just…" she watched his eyes move away over her shoulder and then widen in surprise. "Maker's breath!"

Elissa turned to see a blonde woman approaching with a lone guard. She was close to Teagan's age, and had clearly once been beautiful – though much of that was lost to the ravages of time and what appeared to be a large burden of stress and tragedy. Teagan moved around to meet her, and Elissa trailed behind him… instantly suspicious of anyone who had come from the direction of the castle.

"Teagan! Thank the Maker you yet live!" the woman exclaimed, throwing her arms around him in a fierce hug before pulling away and wringing her hands together in worry. "I do not have much time to explain. I slipped away from the castle as soon as I saw the battle was over, but I must return quickly… and I… I need you to return with me, Teagan. Alone."

"I'm afraid we will require more of an explanation than that before I will allow such a thing to happen." Elissa said, her voice smooth and nonthreatening, though Alistair could hear the steel backbone hidden beneath the silk of her words.

"What!" the woman spat, turning furious eyes on Elissa for daring to interrupt her discussion. "I… who **is** this woman, Teagan?"

"You remember me, Lady Isolde, don't you?" Alistair asked, interjecting himself with a heavy sigh and watching Elissa turn to him with fury filled her eyes when he revealed the woman's name… leaving him wishing he had simply remained silent.

"Alistair! Of all the… why are **you** here?" Isolde demanded, and Elissa took a step forward in anger, before Alistair managed to still her with a hand on the arm closest to his body.

"They are Grey Wardens, Isolde… and this young woman is the Lady Elissa Cousland." Teagan explained, not reading the anger glittering dangerously in Elissa's cold green eyes - assuming that she was simply acting in reaction to a possible threat having emerged from the castle walls. "I owe them my life, as do all the townspeople."

"Pardon me, I… I would exchange pleasantries… but considering the circumstances…" Isolde offered, turning a brusque smile in Elissa's direction before focusing back in on Teagan.

"I **highly** doubt it is the circumstances which keep you from being pleasant toward us…" Elissa muttered, allowing Teagan to see for the first time just what was going on – Alistair had told her of his childhood, and Elissa was furious in response to his tale.

"Please, Lady Isolde…" Alistair said, continuing to tug at Elissa's arm as he tried desperately to maintain some sort of peace between the two women. "We had **no** idea anyone was even alive in the castle. I think it is fair to ask for some answers before we allow someone else to be shuffled off with you."

"I **know** you need more of an explanation, but I… don't know what is safe to tell!" Isolde screeched, shaking bodily and glancing repeatedly back toward the castle as though something was watching her from within. "Teagan, there is a terrible evil within the castle. The dead waken and hunt the living. The mage responsible was caught, but still the nightmare continues."

"Necromancy?" Elissa asked, her fury momentarily forgotten as she turned her head to Morrigan for answers.

"'Tis possible with blood magic." Morrigan replied, using Elissa's acknowledgement to move forward to her other side though she had previously dropped back, put off by her new-found attachment to the Templar. "Though, to work such magics the mage would be very powerful indeed."

"I think… Connor is going mad. We have survived, but he won't flee the castle." Isolde continued, shaken by the two women's discussion but refusing to directly acknowledge it. "He has seen so much death! You **must** help us, Teagan! You are his uncle, you could reason with him! I do not know what else to do."

"Why is it, I wonder, that I get the distinct impression that you are hiding something?" Elissa mumbled, her words soothing yet venomous as she brought a finger to tap at her lips thoughtfully.

"I… I beg your pardon!" Isolde hissed, eyes narrowing on her as though she could freeze the other woman where she stood. "That's a rather impertinent question for you to ask of me!"

"Not if it's true, it isn't…" Elissa replied, narrowing her eyes in return and pulling herself to her full height. "And don't think to pull rank on me, my **Lady**, I am the daughter of a Teyrn who is no more – which, places my rank at Teyrna, while **you** are but an Arlessa. I shall ask questions in any form I see fit."

"An evil I cannot fathom holds my son and husband hostage!" the woman screamed, stepping forward and shaking a finger in Elissa's face in her rage. "I came here for help! What more do you want from me!"

"Enough!" Teagan insisted, stepping between the two furious women and glaring at Alistair for aid in keeping Elissa under control - she already fought against his grip like a mabari on a tether. "Whatever is eating at the two of you can be hashed out later… for now we need to decide what to do… now, Isolde, I don't quite understand what you mean with your limited description of this evil. Did it create the walking corpses? What is it?"

"Something the mage unleashed. So far it allows Eamon, Connor and myself to live. The others… were not so fortunate." Isolde explained, grimacing at the memory. "It's killed so many, and turned their bodies into walking nightmares. Once it was done with the castle, it struck the village. It wants us to live, but I don't know why. It allowed me to come to **you**, Teagan, because I begged. I said Connor needed help."

"Do you think this evil could be some sort of demon?" Morrigan asked, her golden eyes watching the woman carefully for an answer - Elissa did not trust her, and that was all the witch needed to dislike the woman even more than she disliked people in general.

"I… I do not know of such things." Isolde stuttered, shaken at the very idea. "Oh, Maker's mercy! Could it truly be a demon? I can't let it hurt my Connor! Teagan, you must come back with me **now**. Please!"

"I want to know about this mage you mentioned." Elissa insisted, interrupting her insistence again, refusing to allow Teagan to go until she had gotten as much information as required.

"He is an… infiltrator, I think… one of the castle staff." Isolde explained, looking as though she had tasted something particularly nasty. "We discovered he was poisoning Eamon. That is why he fell ill."

"Eamon was poisoned?" Teagan gasped.

"He claims an agent of Teyrn Loghain's hired him." Isolde continued, watching the look of recognition pass between Elissa and her brother-in-law when Teagan was forced to admit Elissa had been right about the connection to what was happening here in Redcliffe to events already at play on a larger scale throughout Ferelden. "He may be lying, however, I cannot say."

"You still have given **no** reason that I can discern why Teagan must return with you **alone**…" Elissa noted, crossing her arms firmly across her chest and inspecting the older woman with stern eyes, "only that you require aid within the castle to fight this... evil. That is better done with a full force as opposed to one man."

"For Connor's sake, of course!" Isolde hissed, glaring back at her. "I promised I would return, quickly, and **only** with Teagan. I know you could follow me when we return, but I beg you not to… for my son's sake if nothing else - it is clear you bear no love for me."

"Enough." Elissa said, silencing the babbling woman with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I must think on this."

"The King is dead, and we need my brother now more than ever." Teagan said, holding Elissa's eyes steadily when she turned to him. "I will return to the castle with Isolde."

"Oh, thank the Maker!" Isolde gasped, breathing deeply in relief. "Bless you, Teagan! Bless you!"

"This is a mistake!" Elissa insisted, stepping closer to Teagan, hoping to use her words to push her own agenda, as she was very worried for the man's safety should he return to the castle alone. "You're going to get yourself killed!"

"I cannot allow her to return without me, surely you can see that. Perhaps I can help Connor and Eamon. Perhaps it is only a trap, but this is my family and I must try." Teagan explained, reaching forward to grip Elissa's shoulders in comfort. "Isolde, can you excuse us for a moment? We must confer in private before I leave for the castle with you."

"Please do not linger too long." Isolde insisted, giving Elissa one last parting glare and a small half smile of gloating. "I will wait by the bridge."

"I can't let you do this, Teagan." Elissa started, watching the Arlessa through narrowed eyes as she walked to wait at the bridge. "It's suicide and it's insane!"

"What choice do either of us have in the matter?" Teagan replied with a sad chuckle. "If your business with Eamon is important, then we have to get inside to find him."

"He's right…" Alistair admitted, already prepared when she turned her glare on him. "Without Arl Eamon, we will never get the support we need to stand against whatever plans Loghain and Howe are already building against us."

"Look, Elissa," Teagan began, reaching over and taking her hands in his own, giving his nephew a short nod to reassure him that the gesture was not meant to be flirtatious on this occasion, "I have no illusions of dealing with this evil alone. **You**, on the other hand, have proven quite formidable… so, here is what I propose: I will go in with Isolde." She started to mumble across from him, already arguing even before he had finished. "Wait, let me finish." She silenced again, but her eyes glittered in her frustration. "I will go in with Isolde and you will enter with your company through the secret passage. My signet ring will open the door. Perhaps I will… **distract** whatever evil is inside and increase your chances of getting in unnoticed. What do you say?"

"It's a sound plan, Elissa." Alistair encouraged, reaching over to squeeze her shoulder. "And it's the only one we've got, we have to go with it."

"Ser Perth and his men can watch for danger at the castle entrance." Teagan continued, comforted that his nephew was standing with him against Elissa who could easily have pushed one of them alone and gotten her way. "If you can open the gates from within, they can move in and help you," he reached down and pulled his ring free, pressing it into Elissa's open palm and closing her fingers over it. "Here is my signet ring. It will open the lock on the door in the mill," her face showed no emotion, she simply watched him with her penetrating eyes waiting for him to finish, "and, just so we are clear, **Eamon** is the priority here. If you have to, just get him out. Isolde, me… **anyone** else is expendable."

"I could **stop** you from doing this, you know…" Elissa said, her voice low and dangerous.

"I have no doubt that you could." Teagan replied, swallowing down his unrest and forcing himself to smile back at her as though he was unaffected by her threat. "But what would be the point in that? I cannot believe that you would willingly risk harm to my nephew or my brother, even if it would save my life to do it."

"One fool decision on top of another…" Sten grumbled as he saw Elissa's will bend toward the plan laid out before her, stalking away from the group and mumbling to himself in his own language.

"I can delay no longer." Teagan said, glancing past Elissa to where Isolde waited for him. "Allow me to bid you farewell, and good luck."

Teagan leaned forward and kissed her knuckles one last time before releasing her hand and jogging over to Isolde and her guardsman.

Elissa watched them until they were out of view, and then turned her attention to Ser Perth and the remaining knights. She sent them off slightly behind Teagan to wait outside the front gates. If Elissa and her companions could make it into the courtyard, they would release the gate from inside and allow the knights to join them in the assault on the castle.

* * *

><p>With nothing left to accomplish, Elissa moved her group into the windmill and crouched at the hatch with Teagan's ring. She inspected the wood carefully, dusting away the dirt that had settled into the grain until she found the place she was meant to insert the signet. She pressed the metal of the ring into the slot and listened as the mechanism inside turned, allowing them access to the passage. She tucked the ring into her pack, and pulled the hatch up – peering down into the dark musty depths.<p>

"Morrigan, would you be willing to conjure some sort of light to guide our passage?" Elissa asked, covering her irritation at this fool plan with her usual polite façade. "I can't make out anything in that murk, and I'd imagine this tunnel must be quite long if it leads all the way into the castle."

The witch nodded, bringing a green glow to life within her staff and dropping herself into the passage below, leaving the others to follow behind her. They walked in silence; no one daring to speak to Elissa whose moods were mercurial and quite volatile.

After what seemed like an eternity in the darkness of the tunnel, they emerged in the bowels of the castle. Pressing through the small entry room, they found themselves in the castle's prison ward. Just ahead of them, three of the reanimated corpses stood attacking someone locked in one of the cells.

Morrigan and Leliana took two of them out instantly, leaving only one who turned its attention from its previous target and onto the new arrivals. Before the thing could get within range, Sten had swung out his long blade and taken off its head, leaving the rest of its decaying body to crumble to the floor.

"Hello? Who's there?" called a voice from inside the cell. "Is there someone alive out there?"

Elissa moved forward until she was in view of the man in the cell. He was dressed in robes that marked him as a mage of the Circle.

"Wait… you don't look like the Arlessa's guards," the man continued.

"You must be the mage she mentioned…" Elissa guessed, looking him over – somehow she had expected someone more monstrous, yet he was simply a man – a fragile looking somewhat attractive man.

"So, you've spoken to her?" the man replied, his face falling when he realized he was unlikely to receive mercy from someone who knew of his crimes. "Then you know what I did…"

"She said that you poisoned the Arl." Elissa replied, choosing her words carefully to provide the man opportunity to explain himself, as she did not completely believe Lady Isolde's explanation of anything.

"I'm not proud of my actions… but poisoning Arl Eamon is what I was hired to do," the mage explained, his words quiet and suspicious – his eyes inspecting Elissa carefully as though she could decide to kill him for his crimes at any moment. "My name is Jowan, and I am formerly of the circle. Lady Isolde had no idea who I was when she took me on to tutor her son. It was all too easy."

"What about all the walking corpses?" Alistair asked, kicking at one of the bodies with the toe of his boot – then wrinkling his nose in disgust when it came away covered in goo.

"I know it looks suspicious, but I'm not responsible for the undead and the killings within the castle." Jowan insisted, reaching forward to grasp the bars. "I was already imprisoned when these things began to happen. At first, Lady Isolde came here with her men demanding that I reverse what I'd done. That's the first I knew of the walking dead," he moved his eyes from Alistair back to Elissa who had begun to pace as she considered his words. "The Lady thought I had summoned a demon to torment her family and destroy Redcliffe. She… had me **tortured**! There was nothing I could do or say to appease her, so they left me down here to be taken by the creatures I suspect."

"Why did the Arlessa require a **mage** to tutor her son?" Leliana asked, addressing the question to Elissa – but unsurprised when it was Jowan who answered.

"Connor had started to show signs…" Jowan explained, moving his eyes once again from Elissa over to the bard. "Lady Isolde was terrified that the Circle of Magi would take him away for training."

"Connor! A mage!" Alistair gasped, scratching at his chin lightly with his gauntleted fingers. "I can't believe it!"

"So, that's where you come in?" Elissa asked, turning her eyes to him but continuing to pace – though she did it because it aided her thinking process, she was also well aware how unsettling it was to those who opposed her, and so she used it to her advantage.

"Yes, you see she sought an apostate rather than a mage within the Circle." Jowan nodded, feeling hopeful that they had listened to him for so long. "Someone who could teach her son in secret so that he could hide his talent. Arl Eamon had no idea."

"I'm not sure I understand fully." Elissa admitted, looking to her companions. "I know little of the Circle and its politics. Why would Isolde be afraid of Connor showing signs of magical talent?"

"He would have been taken away forever. A mage cannot inherit a title, even one who is the son of a powerful Arl." Jowan explained, watching the knowledge seep in. "She also considers herself to be a pious woman and so her son having magical tendencies was a humiliation to her."

"Pious…" Elissa spat, allowing herself an abrasive chuckle as she rolled her eyes at the thought of that woman considering herself anything of the sort after her behavior toward Alistair. "And you say Arl Eamon had **no **idea of his son's abilities?"

"No. The Lady was adamant that he never found out." Jowan insisted, encouraged as it became clear that this woman held no kind feelings toward the Arlessa. "She said he would do the right thing, even if it meant she would lose her son, and it infuriated her."

"I wonder just how **much** it infuriated her…" Elissa postulated, tapping at her chin with a long finger and meeting Alistair's eyes for a moment, silently communicating to him that she believed Isolde's involvement in the current chaos to be much more than she had let on. "How much magic did you teach Connor before you were relieved of your duties?"

"Very little. He is still very young and can barely cast a minor spell… much less something more powerful, at least not intentionally." Jowan explained.

"So you don't think that perhaps Connor could be responsible for what's happening?" Elissa asked, stopping for a moment and meeting the mage's eyes directly.

"Actually, that's exactly what I think." Jowan replied, smiling slightly – this woman was smart. "Connor has little knowledge of magic, but he could have easily done something on accident which tore a hole in the Veil. With that, spirits and demons would be free to infiltrate the castle, and powerful ones could easily be responsible for the deaths and the reanimation of the corpses."

"Okay, so we have a much better idea of what is going on with the creatures… now I need to know more about **you.**" Elissa said, stepping in very close to the bars – watching the mage inside step back until he bumped against the back wall in response to her movement. "Why did you poison the Arl?"

"I-I…" Jowan began, fighting the urge to cower beneath her piercing eyes.

"Do not think to lie to me, mage." Elissa said, her voice low and dangerous – her eyes reading him as though she already knew the answers he would give even before he said the words. "I will know if you do so, and I do not take kindly to such things."

"I was instructed to by Teyrn Loghain…" the mage spat, afraid of giving her anything short of the full truth. "I was told that Arl Eamon was a threat to Ferelden and that if I dealt with him, Loghain would settle matters with the Circle on my behalf," he explained, noting that although her face read nothing new, the faces of the woman's companions now held some amount of worry at the mention of the Teyrn's name. "You see… I'm a maleficar, a blood mage."

"You? A blood mage?" Morrigan laughed, crossing her arms and moving closer to Elissa where she stood menacingly at the bars to his cell. "I would never have guessed…"

"A blood mage!" Alistair gasped, moving up to loom near Elissa's other shoulder – eying the mage suspiciously as though he might attack her at any moment. "Well, that explains a lot…"

"I dabbled in the forbidden arts, and the Circle condemned me to death for it!" Jowan explained, tilting his chin up a bit and looking only to Elissa – he knew her voice was the only one that really mattered. "I thought Loghain was giving me a chance to redeem myself… but… he has abandoned me here to die. Everything has fallen apart and I'm responsible…" he ran his fingers through his hair and stepped forward suddenly, grasping the bars across from Elissa and meeting her eyes, a sudden strength flooding him. "I **have** to make it right somehow! I never meant for things to be like this."

"I say kill the mage." Sten rumbled, meeting Elissa's eyes as she turned to look at him over her shoulder. "He obviously cannot be trusted."

"Surely he needn't die…" Alistair started, his words trailing off as Sten regarded him with an angry glare.

"I say this man could be of use to us!" Morrigan insisted, watching as Elissa's head tilted in consideration of her words. "And if not, let him go. It does no one any good to leave him imprisoned and forgotten here."

"Hey, hey! Let's not forget he's a **blood mage**!" Alistair insisted, waving his hands about dramatically. "You can't just set a **blood mage** free!"

"You just said he needn't die, and now you'd have us slay him?" Morrigan hissed, narrowing her golden eyes upon him. "Is it better we punish him for choices he is clearly already suffering the repercussions of? Is this Alistair who speaks or the Templar?"

"I'd say it was common sense speaking." Alistair retorted, glaring angrily back at her. "We don't even know the whole story yet."

"The Maker teaches forgiveness." Leliana insisted, her soft words intended to ease the tension in the air but aggravating Elissa more than the previous arguments had. "He seems to genuinely wish to atone for his sins, and it is not up to us to decide his fate."

"Just give me a chance, please!" the mage plead, seeing that Elissa was tilting in his favor.

"If – and that's a **big** if – I decide to spare you, how do you intend to make things right?" Elissa asked, eyes narrowing to inspect him carefully.

"I'd… well I'd try to save everyone still alive." Jowan insisted, never dropping her eyes – knowing if he did not convince her, his life was definitely forfeit.

"That's commendable, if it's true…" Elissa admitted, still not sure if she believed him.

"I'm glad you think so…" the mage replied cautiously.

"I find myself at an impasse…" Elissa said, backing away from the cell and leaning against the wall directly across from it. "I will not bring you along with us because I cannot trust you nor can I spare the attentions of one of my companions to watch you," she began, watching the mage carefully. "I cannot in good conscience simply let you go, now that I know what you have done here and that you are an agent of Teyrn Loghain." The mage began to sweat, seeing his chances at survival growing smaller and smaller "But, I also cannot bring myself to take your life when you could aid us here and possibly redeem yourself… and so, for now, I will leave you where I have found you."

* * *

><p>Everyone seemed to accept the decision as best they could, and so Elissa moved the group out of the prison and into the next room – several bodies springing up from the floor as they entered.<p>

"Why can't the dead just stay in the ground where they belong?" Elissa sighed in irritation, having almost forgotten why they'd come during the lengthy interrogation of the mage.

The group carved an easy path through the creatures, having gotten the art of fighting the undead well under wraps at this point, and soon found themselves standing in the entryway to the main floor of the castle.

They pressed forward, fighting through shades and waves of undead streaming out of the side rooms as they made their way down the hall. In the last small room, they came across a terrified woman cowering there in the dark.

"Please! Don't hurt me!" she screamed, dropping to the floor and sobbing when Elissa pried open the door.

"It's alright, we aren't going to hurt you." Elissa assured her, kneeling down to the floor and reaching over to rub at her upper arms in comfort.

"I-I'm sorry… I'm just so frightened," she replied, bringing her eyes up to Elissa's though her trembling continued. "There are monsters everywhere! My name is Valena, the Arlessa's maid. Is she… all right? What happened to everyone?"

"Valena? The smith's daughter?" Alistair asked, his face lighting a bit as he realized they would be able to bring back some good news to the haggard village folk after all.

"You know my father?" Valena replied, looking up to Alistair in surprise. "I want to return to the village, is there a way out of here?"

"There is a tunnel leading out of the dungeon." Elissa began, watching the woman tense in front of her.

"But… the monsters…" she said, hesitantly.

"We've killed anything that stood between where we are now and where you must go to make your way out." Elissa insisted, helping the shaken woman to stand. "It is safe if you follow that path and do not stray."

"I will do that." Valena nodded, smiling slightly. "I can run fast and I know the castle. Thank you!"

With that she disappeared down the hall.

* * *

><p>After a few more rooms full of corpses to battle, the group finally reached the castle's receiving room. They could hear voices coming from inside, and Elissa recognized one of them as Teagan's.<p>

"The door is locked." Alistair said, rattling it around.

"I can't pick it." Elissa said, leaning over to inspect the mechanism and seeing that it was irrevocably damaged by something. "It's jammed, my tools won't do any good."

"Then we have to find another way in." Alistair insisted, seeing her nod in response and lead them forward.

They wound through the castle, forced to descend back into the cellars and finally emerging in the courtyard. Elissa looked around and noted several skeletons patrolling the edges and the top of the stairs, but what drew her eye was a large armored creature lurking in the shadows straight across from them.

"What is that?" Elissa asked, unsettled by the waves of darkness rolling off of it and the heavy armor that covered its body.

"A Revenant." Morrigan answered, eying it cautiously. "An extremely powerful demon has chosen to animate that corpse. You must proceed with caution, this fight will not be easy."

Elissa nodded, setting the rest of her group on the skeletons – with particular attention to the archers – and choosing to set off after the Revenant on her own, though Alistair briefly argued against it before being shot down by her logic once again.

Her charge toward it was interrupted when the creature used some power to suck her off her feet, leaving her tumbling forward to land within a few inches of its shadowy torso. She barely had enough time to roll away before it brought its blade down toward her head.

She bounced to her feet, creeping around the monster and watching as its eerie red eyes followed her every move. She swiped at it, dancing in and out of range and dodging the swings of its great blade and shield, but barely managing to put a dent in it. She was pondering a number of options when it cast its spell again, pulling her forward off her feet and leaving her prone beneath it.

This time she was not fast enough to avoid the blow it leveled at her, and she screamed as the great blade sliced into her forearm just below the elbow, forcing her to release the longsword she had held in that hand and deflect with the other one. Elissa knew she was running out of options. She would not be able to deflect the creatures powerful blows for much longer – and her other arm was useless and bleeding heavily, giving her little chance to successfully attack.

She glanced around her, Sten was mired in skeletons on the front stairs, and Alistair was surrounded across the courtyard – and though both looked as though they wanted to come to her aid, she knew they had problems of their own to deal with and would never make to her it in time even if they left their own skeletons behind and ran for her.

Leliana was launching a barrage of arrows into the skeletons surrounding both of them, trying to take them down quickly so that she could offer her aid to Elissa – but she too would not finish her task before the creature managed to break her defenses.

She scanned the grounds further, but found herself unable to locate Morrigan, and feared that the mage had already fallen to one of the creatures. Realizing help was not coming, she braced herself against the creature's increasingly savage blows, resolved to hold out as long as she possibly could, but knowing she would likely fall within minutes.

As she had predicted, it did not take long for the Revenant to knock her other blade loose – sending it clattering to the ground beside her. She closed her eyes and awaited the blow, opening them as a savage growl ripped through the air and watching a wolf slam into the Revenant, preventing it from finishing her off.

The animal danced around it, landing enough blows to keep it off guard and managing to avoid its sword until the others made it over to finish it off. Once the Revenant fell to the ground, Alistair scrambled over to her – dropping to his knees and reaching to take her arm to inspect the wound.

"I was certain you were going to be killed in front of me." Alistair said, his words strangled with emotion as he pressed at the edges of her cut and looked for something to stop the bleeding.

"I was certain myself." Elissa replied, feeling slightly dizzy from blood loss and looking over to the wolf that had now moved to her side. "If it weren't for this animal, I likely would have been."

With that, the wolf shifted, its stout furry body slimming and expanding until her eyes recognized Morrigan.

"Animal am I?" Morrigan huffed, pursing her lips as she knelt to inspect the cut – shooing Alistair's clumsy fingers away.

"Morrigan?" Elissa gasped, eyes wide in surprise. "You're a shifter! I had no idea!"

"Certainly I am allowed some secrets…" Morrigan said, her hands glowing a soft green over Elissa's arm as her magic knit the skin and muscle back together. "Everyone else seems to have them."

"I suppose you're right." Elissa chuckled, wiggling her fingers and noting that aside from the great gash in her armor and the small scar remaining, for Morrigan was no healer, she was no worse for the wear. "Though, clearly, knowing of such an ability could be of use to us in future battles."

"Well, now you know," the witch retorted, helping the woman to her feet, "but do not think you can simply snap your fingers and have me trotting about on your command."

"Certainly not…" Elissa laughed, rolling her eyes and not allowing the witch's hands to leave her own – squeezing them with affection. "In all seriousness Morrigan, I cannot thank you enough. I owe you my life – and I will not forget it."

Morrigan only nodded in response, squeezing lightly at her hands, then slipping away as Elissa moved to let Ser Perth and his knights into the front gate.

* * *

><p>Once they were inside, the full company pressed into the main room together. Upon entering the main room, they were completely confused by what they found.<p>

Connor stood on the dais, surrounded by castle guardsmen and joined by Arlessa Isolde who looked broken. Bann Teagan bounced around the room like a court jester, acting completely out of character.

Elissa pressed forward into the room, watching as the child's eyes flicked suddenly from Teagan's "entertainment" to land on her own.

"So, **these** are our visitors…" Connor said, his voice sounding much older than his body should carry. "The ones you told me about, Mother?"

"Y-yes, Connor." Isolde replied, looking sadly to Elissa then tearing her eyes away in shame and fear.

"And **this** is the one who lead the assault against my soldiers and defeated them when I sought to reclaim my village." Connor continued, stepping down and moving to inspect Elissa more closely. "And now it stands here staring at me! What is it, Mother? I can't see well enough."

"She is a woman, Connor, just as I am…" Isolde answered, her brows knitting in confusion at her son's request.

"You lie!" the boy hissed, glaring angrily at his mother before turning back to Elissa. "This woman is nothing like you. She is strong and so **very** powerful… and just look at her! Half your age and beautiful, with the desires of these men trailing after her like leaves left to the mercy of the wind. I'm surprised you don't have her executed in a fit of jealousy!"

"C-connor, I beg you, don't hurt anyone." Isolde plead, looking in horror to Elissa – but the woman did not falter under the empty threats of her child.

"M-mother, what's happening… where am I?" the boy asked, backing away from Elissa and stumbling slightly as though a great fog was lifting from his mind.

"Oh, thank the Maker!" Isolde gasped, rushing forward to wrap her son in her arms. "Connor! Connor, can you hear me?"

"Get away from me foul woman!" the child hissed, his voice settling back into the eerie cadence that betrayed his years. "You are beginning to bore me!"

"Maker's breath! What has happened here?" Ser Perth gasped, reaching for his blessed Andrastean amulet as though it could provide some protection for him.

"Grey Warden, please, do not hurt my son – I beg you!" Isolde plead, watching the way Elissa's fingers twitched. "He is not responsible for what he does."

"So **he** is the evil you spoke of." Elissa said, her eyes cold and angry as she turned her glare upon the Arlessa who had lied to her once again.

"No! Don't say that!" Isolde wept, shaking her head.

"The boy has become an abomination and sundered the Veil." Morrigan explained, crossing her arms and leveling her own glare up at the Arlessa.

"Connor didn't mean to do this! It was that mage, the one who poisoned Eamon – he is responsible for all of this!" Isolde insisted, refusing to admit that her son could have any part in what was going on. "He summoned the demon! Connor was just trying to help his father!"

"And he made a deal with a **demon** to do so?" Morrigan said, laughing in her cold broken way. "Foolish child!"

"It was a fair deal!" the demon child hissed, glaring at the witch. "Father is alive, just as he wanted… and now **I** shall sit on the throne and send out armies to conquer the world! Nobody will tell me what to do, not anymore!"

"Nobody will tell him what to do!" the Teagan puppet cackled maniacally. "**Nobody**!"

"Quiet uncle!" the demon child yelled, glaring him into silence. "I warned you what would happen if you kept shouting, didn't I? Yes… I did! But, let us keep things civil…" he turned his eyes back onto Elissa. "This… woman will have the audience she seeks. Tell us, **woman**… what have you come here for?"

"To help, if I can." Elissa explained, crossing her arms politely behind her back and wiggling her fingers at Alistair – hoping he understood she wanted him to slip his dagger into her hand if he could do so without being seen.

"To help me? Father? Yourself?" Connor demanded, eyes narrowing in suspicion as the large blonde man moved closer to the woman. "Well, which is it?"

"I want to help you **and **your father." Elissa said honestly, closing her fingers over the handle Alistair had pressed into her palm and flipping it so that it was completely hidden against the inside of her wrist. "And in doing so, I will help myself."

"**I** don't need help!" the demon child insisted, fury now burning in his eyes. "I can do everything all by myself… isn't that right, Mother?"

"I… I don't think…" Isolde stuttered, cowering under her son's angry glare.

"Of **course** you don't!" the boy hissed, glowering dangerously at her and beginning to pace. "Ever since you sent the Knights away, you do nothing but deprive me of my fun! Frankly, it's getting dull… I crave excitement and action!" he turned his eyes back to Elissa, his face cracking into an unsettling grin. "This **woman** spoiled my sport when she saved that worthless village, so now she will repay me!"

At a snap of the child's fingers, the guardsmen and Teagan set down upon them – weapons drawn. Elissa looked for a clear shot at Connor with the dagger Alistair had provided her, but he had slipped from the room before she could do anything, and so she tucked it into her belt and pulled loose her swords.

"Disarm and disable them **only**!" Elissa insisted, wishing no harm come to these men being used as puppets by the demon child. "Do **not** kill them unless absolutely necessary!"

She moved forward and took Teagan on herself, though he was clearly searching for her among the bodies and would have sought her out even had she not chosen him for her target. She could see he had been well trained in swordsmanship, but his skill and single sword were no match for her dual blades – and she quickly disarmed him and pinned him beneath her boot on the floor.

At his loss, he seemed to come back to himself, as did all the others – and Elissa sheathed her blades as she watched him shake away the last of the fog from his mind, then reached down to help him stand.

"Are you alright?" she asked, dusting him off at bit.

"No worse for the wear, pinned beneath your heel though I was." Teagan chuckled, sharing a brief smile with her before her face went blank as Isolde approached.

"Blessed Andraste!" the woman cried, clutching at Teagan's arm. "I could never forgive myself if you died, not after I brought you here! What a fool I am!"

"You **knew** all along!" Elissa hissed, glaring at the Arlessa hatefully – and though Alistair moved into his usual spot beside her, he did not seek to quell her fury now as he had done before. "You knew what we were up against and you said **nothing**!"

"Please! Connor is not responsible!" Isolde yelped, cringing beneath Elissa's gaze. "There must be some way we can save him! I didn't tell you because I believed I could help him, and I still do!"

"Clearly the child is an abomination." Morrigan sighed, moving to Elissa's other side and narrowing her eyes on the Arlessa. "There is but one way to end that threat with certainty, or only one that I am aware of."

"**No**!" Isolde insisted, horrified that they wanted to kill her son. "He is not always the demon, and you saw as much! Connor is still in there and sometimes he breaks through. Please, I just want to protect him!"

"Isn't that what started this?" Teagan said, his own voice laced with the venom of his anger at having been manipulated by the woman. "Your **protection**? You hired that mage to teach Connor in secret in order to protect him."

"If they discovered Connor's magic, then they'd have taken him away." Isolde insisted, her voice rising in anger. "I thought if he learned enough to hide it…"

"So, you had **no** idea the man you hired was an assassin?" Elissa inquired, not believing her innocence.

"None. I trusted Loghain, why wouldn't I?" the Arlessa retorted, glaring at Elissa as though she was stupid – clearly news of Loghain's betrayal and the King's death had not reached within the castle walls. "Why would I suspect the man he sent to be a murderer in disguise?"

"How could Eamon know nothing of your plan?" Teagan wondered, inspecting Isolde with a cautious eye. "Do you realize what your selfishness has done, Isolde? This isn't simply sending Alistair off to the Chantry to protect your foolish vanity; your decisions may have doomed us all this time!"

"Eamon would have demanded we do the **right** thing!" Isolde hissed, ignoring the pointed glare Elissa sent her at the mention of Alistair's broken childhood – clearly this woman was involved with the boy and would not see reason where he was concerned. "I was not going to lose my son, not to magic!"

"You've brought this on yourself you selfish bitch!" Elissa spat, seething in anger and happily taking the hand Alistair placed in hers. "You don't deserve our help, or our mercy!"

"Maker help me, I know!" Isolde retorted, glaring back at her. "But **I** should be punished, not Connor!"

"Where is he now?" Elissa asked, her voice low and demanding. "Why did he run?"

"I think he ran upstairs to the family quarters." Teagan said, wondering if she planned to go after him.

"Violence… scares him." Isolde said, in attempted explanation. "I know that sounds… strange, but he is probably just hiding in his room…"

"Or waiting somewhere in ambush…" Sten interjected, eying the woman warily.

"I don't know!" Isolde sighed, realizing she was not going to convince this woman or her companions of anything as they were clearly set against her. "The fighting may have scared Connor into surfacing again, and so he ran."

"So you're saying he may be vulnerable?" Teagan asked, hating the thought of it but knowing such a gap in the demon's control might give them the only chance they had to strike against it.

"Perhaps… is there no other way?" Isolde begged, looking across the group before her.

"Where is Eamon?" Elissa asked, refocusing for a moment.

"Upstairs in his room." Isolde answered, suddenly seeing a way she could at least delay their decision to murder her son. "I think the demon is what is keeping him alive."

"So, if we destroy it, then Eamon could perish?" Teagan asked, shoulders falling in defeat.

"Yes." Isolde insisted, her own shoulders raising as though a burden had been lifted.

"Convenient, isn't it…" Elissa muttered, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she began to pace. "Okay, we need to consider our options."

"I wouldn't normally suggest slaying a child, and I know it may kill Arl Eamon as well… but Connor is an abomination…" Alistair said, worrying at his brow in frustration. "I'm not sure there **is** another option."

"No! What… what about the mage?" Isolde insisted, refusing to give up the ground she had gained to the stupid worthless bastard child she had sent away years ago. "He could know something of this demon. If he still lives, we should speak to him."

"He is still alive, though if your **torture** did not get us answers… I don't know what else he can tell us now." Elissa hissed, glaring at the woman again.

"We should at least bring him here and find out!" Isolde spat, crossing her arms and refusing to back down from Elissa's challenge. "Teagan, could you go and find him?"

"I… will try." Teagan said, looking to Elissa and noting that she did nothing to prevent him from doing so. "But if he resists, I will not hesitate to kill him."

Elissa met Sten's eyes then Morrigan's, sending them both to escort Teagan in his journey to retrieve the mage with a mere tilt of her head, then returned to her glaring contest with the Arlessa who had moved back up to the dais at the back of the room.

"You could be a **little** nicer to her, Elissa." Alistair said, reaching forward to wrap an arm around her upper body, feeling her relax back against him - both of them ignoring Leliana's light chuckle at the contact. "Regardless of how we might feel about her, she is going through quite an ordeal."

"This **is** me being nice to her." Elissa replied, her words sliding out harsh between clenched teeth, though she the squeeze at Alistair's fingers was gentle. "If I were **not** being nice, I assure you, I would have her head on a pike out on the hill in front of the town windmill."

Alistair was warmed, if not a bit frightened, that Elissa felt so strongly for him that she would take the life of this woman who had caused him so much pain in his youth. He leaned forward and laid a gentle kiss against her hair, feeling her take a deep breath in response – disengaging herself from his arms only when Teagan and the others led the mage into the room.

"You are lucky to be alive, Jowan." Isolde hissed, coming to stand in front of him and watching as the others collapsed into a tight group for further discussion. "Especially after all you've done!"

"I know…" the mage replied, looking to the floor.

"As you suspected, it was Connor who sundered the Veil – and he is now possessed by some sort of demonic entity." Elissa explained, pulling his gaze back up to her face. "I have allowed you to be brought here because I need to know what our options are for dealing with the boy, **other** than removing his head."

"The demon within him must be destroyed." Jowan replied, ignoring the way Isolde cringed at Elissa's cavalier mention of her son's demise. "Killing Connor is the easiest way to do that… but there is another way. A mage could confront the demon in the Fade, without causing damage to Connor physically."

"What do you mean?" Teagan asked, confusion clouding his face. "Is the demon not within Connor?"

"Not physically." Jowan explained, rubbing at his temples as he searched for the words to explain his meaning. "The demon approached Connor in the Fade while he dreamt, and controls him from there. We can use that very connection to track it."

"You can enter the Fade and kill the demon without hurting my boy?" Isolde asked, hope creeping back into her face.

"No, but I can enable another mage to do it." Jowan said, looking over to Morrigan. "The ritual for such passage normally requires lyrium and several mages, but I have… blood magic."

"You actually think I'd let you cast a spell, **any** spell, after the havoc you've wreaked here?" Elissa said, her voice deceptively calm, though Alistair could see her fingering the hilt of his dagger where it remained anchored at her back.

"Probably not." Jowan replied. "I'm only saying that I **can**."

"I don't understand much about blood magic." Elissa admitted, turning to Morrigan. "How is this even a viable option?"

"Lyrium provides the power for the ritual." Morrigan explained, interrupting Jowan who briefly attempted to explain himself before realizing that Elissa would pay him no attention. "But this man can use someone's life energy as a substitute for it." Her eyes darkened to press home her point, knowing that Elissa would consider offering herself to save the child. "But it takes a **tremendous** amount of that force, **all** of it, in fact."

"So… someone must die? Someone must be sacrificed?" Teagan asked, horrified at the prospect but seeing that no matter what they decided, someone was going to die as a result.

"Yes, and then we send her," Jowan nodded to Morrigan, "into the Fade while I maintain the ritual. The power must come from somewhere, either lyrium and the power of several mages – or only one mage and a sacrifice of blood."

"Then it shall be me." Isolde said, stepping forward with steel in her spine. "I will be the sacrifice."

"What!" Teagan gasped, looking to Elissa to intervene and realizing she did not look at all concerned that the life lost could be Isolde's. "Isolde, are you mad? Eamon would **never** allow this!"

"Either someone kills my son to destroy that **thing** inside him," Isolde retorted, glaring angrily at Elissa who showed absolutely no reaction in the blank slate of her features, "or I give my life so that he may live. To me, there is but one answer."

"Blood magic… how can **more** evil be of any help here?" Alistair wondered, shaking his head at Elissa – his eyes pleading with her to put aside her anger toward the Arlessa and prevent this course of action from playing through. "Two wrongs **don't** make a right."

"It seems a sensible choice, with a willing participant." Morrigan shrugged.

"Connor is blameless in this." Isolde insisted, holding Elissa's eyes with her own stern gaze. "He should not pay the price."

"It is up to you, Elissa." Teagan said, giving in and looking weary as all of the stress weighed down upon him. "You know more of these things than I, and it will be your friend who enters the Fade. The decision is yours."

"There **has** to be another way." Elissa insisted, looking around the room and finding the deal breaker for her was actually that she was unwilling to sacrifice Morrigan in the bargain – then turning her eyes to Jowan. "You said lyrium and more mages would **also **allow the ritual to be performed. Are we not close to the Circle of Magi?"

"Yes! That is an excellent idea!" Alistair said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder tightly – his face lighting in pride and joy at the beautiful smart woman beside him. "One of our treaties is for the mages so they are bound to help us anyway!"

"The tower is a day's journey across the lake." Teagan said, tapping at his chin thoughtfully. "You could attempt to get the mages' help."

"But what will happen here?" Isolde insisted. "Connor will not remain passive forever."

"I will take that chance." Elissa said, her decision made.

"Very well, I will keep Jowan here as a precaution." Teagan said, relief washing over him – no more sacrifices would be made today. "He says he wants to help, and so he will watch Connor with us. Now, go quickly! The longer you are away, the greater the chances for disaster."


	19. Chapter 19: Comfort and Conversation

**_Disclaimer_**_: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

__When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale.__

__**A/N:** This chapter is, for the most part, total fluff! Nothing too risque, so I'll not mark it NSFW - there is some "adult" subject matter, but it doesn't go into great detail.__

__Muse Music was Arms by Christina Perri. __

__Thanks to my reviewers, followers, readers and lurkers! Always happy to hear from you :) And as always, a HUGE thank you to my Lady Beta **artemiskat** - couldn't do it without you!  
><em>_

__-Frayed One__

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Nineteen: Comfort and Conversation<strong>_

Once she had set her mind to something, Elissa was not the type to linger over whether or not it was the right decision to make. Instead she quickly forged ahead, setting to work on a plan and moving herself and her companions into the pattern of it.

Such routines became a comfort to Alistair when the situations within which they often found themselves seemed to grow ever more dire while the Blight and the Civil War progressed along side them. Today was certainly no exception.

Elissa stood out on the Redcliffe docks, locked in an earnest discussion with the sole individual capable of navigating a watercraft who had managed to survive the previous night's siege. As they were pressed for time, not knowing how long Connor's demon would remain in a passive state, Elissa did not want to risk walking the lengthy road around Lake Calenhad to the Circle docks – and insisted that the most logical and practical course of action was to secure passage via boat.

It then became a matter of finding someone who could pilot said boat, as well as a craft capable of bearing the full group of them without sinking under their combined weight. The boat itself had proved easiest to find, and as Alistair continued to watch her – it appeared as though the boatman for their trip had finally been secured.

"Alright, let's get loaded," Elissa instructed, herding her reluctant companions into the transport she had acquired for them.

All of them had balked at her idea, even Sten, which had surprised her since, so far as she knew, the qunari were avid sailors. Morrigan had flat out **refused** to get in the thing and chose instead to shift into her raven form and fly herself across. She now sat perched on Elissa's shoulder, peering at Alistair with her golden eyes and watching him shuffle about uncomfortably in response.

"Do you have to let her perch on your shoulder like that?" Alistair asked, making a half gesture at the bird though he refused to look directly at it.

"I doubt I **let** Morrigan do anything." Elissa chuckled, glancing at the witch out of the corner of her eye with a smile. "Besides, she's not hurting anything and it makes me feel like a rapscallion, all piratey and ready to take to the seas!"

Alistair groaned in response, wobbling as he settled himself into the boat – and Elissa could swear she heard the raven chuckle as it tapped affectionately at her ear before taking to wing and heading off in front of them.

* * *

><p>By the time they pulled into the side docks at the Circle landing, the sun was low in the sky – casting an ominous look to the tower and the clouds of fog that hung in the air around it.<p>

Morrigan stood waiting on the shore as the rest of the company stepped back onto dry land. She sashayed toward them with a grin, laughing as Alistair nearly fell backward into the water before the qunari steadied him with the strong slap of his massive hand against his armored shoulder.

"That's odd…" Leliana noted, and Elissa turned her gaze to follow the bard's eyes down to the man standing guard by the main dock where the boat to the Circle tower was anchored. "There isn't usually a Templar manning the boat."

"Why would they station a Templar on **this** side of the crossing?" Elissa mused, looking to Alistair since he had almost been one of them.

"I'm not sure, unless there was some kind of problem within the tower itself." Alistair answered, his brow creasing as he considered that possibility.

"Most likely yet **another** set of problems we must solve before getting the assistance we require…" Morrigan grumbled, irritation rolling off her in waves as she glared at the Chantry-man watching the docks.

"Well, we won't know anything unless we ask around." Elissa sighed, looking up toward the little inn and noting the man standing outside. "I suggest we try the tavern first, I somehow doubt that the Templar is going to be forthcoming with whatever it is he knows."

She moved the group up the hill toward the inn, handing off a coin pouch to Morrigan instructing her to take the others inside and get them all something to eat. She was not surprised when Alistair ignored those instructions and remained at her side.

"Why bless my soul!" the haggard man exclaimed, a warm smile lighting his face when Elissa approached him. "What's a distinguished Lady such as yourself doing here?"

"I've come seeking passage to the Circle tower." Elissa replied, returning his smile with one of her own.

"Ha! Don't hold your breath!" the man replied, crossing his arms and smirking down at the Templar by the docks. "No one's been allowed across the lake for days. I'm the ferryman; least wise I **used** to be. Poor old Kester, out of a job…"

"So, they **are** preventing people from crossing then?" she asked, glancing at Alistair in concern and watching him shrug in response.

"Greagoir came down and said, _don't you worry, Kester, we got it all under control, we do!_" the ferryman explained jovially. "Didn't say nothing else – just put that idiot Carroll in charge of my boat. Lisse – that's her name… named for my grandmum, she was."

"Who's Greagoir?" Elissa asked, turning to Alistair for an explanation.

"He's Knight-Commander of the Templars in the Ferelden tower." Alistair explained, his face now fully concerned in light of the Knight-Commander's involvement. "A good man from what I remember."

"Is there something wrong in the tower, Kester?" Elissa asked, turning to the man for confirmation. "Is that why they've shut your ferry down?"

"I told you, they didn't tell me nothing," the man replied, sniffing spitefully at her repeated inquisition. "And if I know mages, I'm better off keeping out of their business. Any problems over there have to do with magic… but then, the tower's always got something to do with magic."

"It is **very** important that we get across to the tower." Elissa said, her voice shifting into a more severe octave when she realized that nice wasn't working. "I'm here on official business."

"Well, don't look at me!" Kester huffed, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. "I'm not the ferryman no more. Greagoir's told me to stay here 'til it blows over… but I'm telling you, **some** storms don't blow over easy."

"Perhaps I could convince that Templar to ferry us across…" Elissa postulated, glancing down at him and worrying at her chin with a finger - she didn't like Kester's description of the tower's issues as "stormy".

"I can see the wheels turning in there, Elissa…" Alistair said, drawing her eyes up to his face where she noted the twinge of jealousy that always flickered to life when she considered using her femininity to bend someone to her will. "And, I'd rather you not send an entire tower of repressed Chantry men into turmoil before we have an idea of what we're up against."

"Alright…" she sighed, rolling her eyes at him over her grin. "I'll put aside that idea for now, but if left with no other option – it **will** be revisited."

"Fine, let's just move on for now…" Alistair replied, waving goodbye to the former ferryman and corralling Elissa toward the tavern door.

"Move on to what?" Elissa asked, looking around sarcastically - as though some mystery person with all the answers would jump out of the bushes at any moment. "If Kester doesn't know what's happened and **he** actually spoke to the Knight-Commander, then certainly no one inside the tavern is going to know anything more than he does. Our only option is to speak to the Templar stationed at the docks and hope that we can convince him – either through coercion or flirtation – to take us across. I've spoken with enough Templars to know that cooperative ones like Ser Bryant back in Lothering are a rarity."

"Ugh… I know… you're right…" Alistair admitted, mussing his hair with his fingers in distress. "Can we just, go inside and eat… maybe get some rooms and sleep for a bit before we go down that road? It's been a ridiculously long couple of days and I don't know about you – but I've about had it."

"How can I deny such a request when you are so very **adorable** in your delivery…" she replied, leaning forward just enough to brush a thumb lightly against his jaw before turning toward the tavern. "Well… come along then…"

* * *

><p>While her companions enjoyed the table full of food Morrigan had managed to procure for them, Elissa spent her time deep in conversation with the tavern keep. It had been easy to acquire separate rooms for each of them, as the establishment was completely empty and had been since the docks shut down – in fact, according to the chatty proprietor – Elissa and her companions were the first guests he had seen in several days.<p>

By the time she had finished pulling loose all the information the man had to offer, everyone except Alistair had already retired for the night. She turned to gaze at him with a smile, watching him fight off sleep where he sat near the hearth waiting patiently for her to go to her own room for the night before he would allow himself to rest.

"You didn't have to wait for me, you know." Elissa said, leaning down to whisper in his ear and watching him jump enough to nearly launch himself from the chair.

"Maker! You can't sneak up on a man like that!" Alistair huffed, clutching at his chest in mock fear and watching her pile a small plate full of the remaining food.

"Come on…" she said, smirking at him as she munched on a mouthful of bread and tugged at his arm to get him to rise and follow her, "and grab that pitcher, I'm thirsty."

He did as she asked, trailing along behind her – allowing himself to enjoy the light sway of her hips as she moved down the hall to her room. Once inside, he sat the pitcher down on the table where she had placed the plate – and got ready to make his way to his own room – stopping when he heard the click of the lock in her door.

He turned, a little surprised and not sure what to expect as she started to disarm herself and place her weapons in the rack against the wall. She moved behind the privacy screen to remove her armor, and Alistair's face colored at the thought of her undressing, though all he could see was the occasional bob of her red head over the top of it.

"You **are** allowed to get comfortable, Alistair," her disembodied voice instructed him floating up from behind the barrier. "There is plenty of room on the weapon rack for your sword and shield, and you can have the armor stand. My leathers will be fine on the floor."

"A-alright…" he somehow managed to force out… his mind spinning as he started to take his own weapons and armor off, methodically placing them piece by piece onto the weapon and armor stands until he stood in just his linen pants and shirt.

Elissa emerged from behind the screen a few moments later, dressed in the same navy shirt and tan pants she had worn that night he had come to her room at Soldier's Peak, pulling at the long tresses of her hair now free from the intricate braids that normally bound them to the back of her head.

"Sit down, you're making me nervous standing there gawking at me." Elissa laughed, sitting on the bed and pulling the plate of food into her lap – all the table manners her mother had tried to instill in her completely forgotten as she began to grab finger fulls of the food and shovel them into her mouth.

"Hungry?" Alistair chuckled, his nervousness momentarily forgotten as he watched her devouring the meal; stopping only to take long pulls directly from the pitcher of water still on the table.

"**Ravenous**!" she replied, the word mumbled around a mouthful of food before she managed to swallow it down. "I don't know if it's all in my head or if it's an actual side effect of the potion I drank, but I find that I am starving **all** the time!"

"Well I guess I should be happy you haven't gnawed my arm off then," he noted, trying to remain light though her mention of the potion brought his thoughts back to the battle outside Redcliffe Chantry. "Speaking of side effects… I wanted to speak with you about what happened in Redcliffe... outside the Chantry."

"What do you mean?" Elissa asked, shoveling the last of the food into her mouth and washing it down before placing the dishes back on the bedside table.

"Elissa… surely you noticed how you were…" Alistair said, choosing his words carefully as he didn't want to provoke her temper when the evening was going so well.

"How I was?" she looked at him in confusion.

"The way you fought… it… it wasn't natural, Elissa. It was incredible and effective… but not normal," he explained, watching her eyes go wide as though she had no memory of what he described. "The way you moved, it was hard to follow you – you were so **fast**, faster than I've ever seen you – and when everyone else was ready to drop, you kept going, stronger than you had been when we started. Maker, Elissa – I was… we were **all** a bit frightened of you."

"Frightened?" Elissa gasped, searching her mind desperately for a memory of the fight – and finding nothing… she had not thought it curious before, assuming it was the stress of battle that had cost her the recollection of it – but now that Alistair spoke of it, she realized those moments were lost because she had not been in control of herself. "Was I… was I horrible?"

"No, no…" Alistair reassured her, realizing that his description had made her think the concoction had turned her into some sort of creature. "It was just, a bit unsettling to see you lose yourself like that – effective though it was. Do you really have no memory of it?"

"I-I remember the monsters falling limp, and I remember my legs giving out and you catching me…" she said, searching one more time for images she knew she would not find. "Other than that, it's all a blur – nothing I can put into words, more sensation and emotion. I-I'm sorry Alistair, I didn't mean to frighten anyone… you must think me no more than a monster myself…"

"No one thinks ill of you, Elissa," he reassured her, learning forward to offer comfort by laying his hand against her cheek, his skin tingling when she leaned into his gesture and raised her own hand to cover his. "We just worry, that's all."

"I guess that's alright." Elissa answered with a smile, reaching to arrange her pillows into a comfortable pile and leaning into them, then motioning Alistair over with a curl of her long finger.

He swallowed hard, but did as she requested, lying back against the nest she had created and trying to slow his breathing as she leaned back against his chest, pulling his arm over her stomach and sliding her hand down to lace her fingers into his own. It was an incredibly intimate gesture, and Alistair – having never sat alone with a woman on her bed under completely innocent circumstances, was close to passing out now that he was curled up next to one behind the locked door of her chamber.

"I-I've been wondering something…" Alistair managed to stutter out, forcing himself to focus on making polite conversation and not the light touch of her fingers as she trailed them over the skin between his thumb and forefinger. "I've been curious for awhile about your thoughts on our traveling companions, do you mind if I ask?"

"Go ahead," she replied, shaking her head, "I don't mind."

"What do you make of Sten?" he started, remembering the many times he had challenged Elissa's decisions with his unsettling violet stare. "The way he looks at you with those eyes sometimes… it's creepy. And he's just **too** quiet for someone so large!"

"Just because you're large and wear heavy armor doesn't mean you have to lumber around like a clattering oak, Alistair." Elissa laughed, the motion of her abdomen causing the underside of her breasts to brush lightly against Alistair's forearm. "Though, I will agree with you that his gaze can sometimes be unsettling. I have come to respect him, however. He is steady and bound tightly to his ideals – and he seems set on redemption, which is a worthy goal."

"I have to admit, the more that I talk to him – the more reasonable he seems." Alistair replied, thinking on several discussions he'd found himself in with the qunari before and after the battle at Redcliffe and forcing his mind not to linger on the touch of her bosom against the exposed skin of his arm. "His philosophy on life is so… **strange**… but not nearly as evil as the Chantry makes it out to be. And yet… he killed all those people, and doesn't even deny it! Does that not bother you?"

"I think it would bother me more if he **did** deny it, being that we **know** and have always known he is guilty," she said, and Alistair could see that logic. "He also seems to honestly regret his actions and I must admit... that is an emotion I understand all to well."

"I'm not sure that regret means the same thing to him that it would to you and me," he replied thoughtfully, reaching his free arm up to rub at his chin - wondering about the regrets of which Elissa was speaking, but knowing now was not the time to ask of them. "The qunari sense of honor is… a bit hard to grasp… for me, anyway - I'm certain you'll be an expert by the time our journey is over." she laughed again and patted his hand softly, "What about Leliana? Do you think she's crazy, or could her _vision_ have any truth to it?"

"I believe that **she** believes there is truth to it." Elissa answered, the irritation in her voice easy to read as she thought on it. "She certainly mentions the Maker enough to be genuine about it."

"That's one way to put it." Alistair chuckled, thinking about the number of times the bard had felt the need to point out what the Maker had in store for Elissa, even though she knew how Elissa would react to those assertions - she was steadfast if nothing else. "I don't really believe she's crazy… honestly, I don't know what to make of her. Sometimes, if you watch her when she isn't looking – she just looks so... **sad**. I feel almost guilty for taking her away from her life in the Chantry. At least she seemed to have gotten some peace from that. Now all she has is this quest to guide you on the Maker's path, or whatever..."

"We **took** her away from nothing, she** insisted** on coming along." Elissa huffed, reaching her free hand up to rub at her nose in frustration. "It was her choice, and one I regret allowing every time she looks at me with those… those **Chantry **eyes, like she's smiting me with the will of the Maker himself for failing to live up to her expectations. I swear, that woman wields guilt as a weapon better than my mother **ever** did."

"Would you not have brought her along if you could go back and decide again?" he wondered, having vastly underestimated how uncomfortable the bard made her.

"I don't know… I'd probably have done things exactly the same," she sighed, moving her other hand down to where their other hands lay entwined and starting to run one long digit along the outer edges of their layered fingers - tracing the edges. "I tell you we can't turn away offers of aid, no matter our personal feelings on the matter, often enough that I'd make myself a hypocrite otherwise."

"And that leaves us with M-morrigan." Alistair said, the light graze of her fingers on his skin driving him insane, and forcing him to raise the topic if only to quell his desire with annoyance. "Do you honestly trust her? I mean… if you think about it, it's very likely that Flemeth sent her along for reasons other than those she gave. She certainly seemed interested enough in **you** to have plans that didn't involve sending her daughter to learn of the world purely out of the goodness of her heart. Not to mention, Morrigan is rude and dismissive to everyone **except** you... has it never crossed your mind that her intentions might be less than honorable where you're concerned?"

"You **really** don't like her, do you?" Elissa asked, tilting her head enough to look up into his face – her teasing fingers coming to a still against their hands.

"Well, aside from the fact that she's a complete and utter **bitch**, she's also creepy and menacing and **mean** to me – so no, I don't like her," he replied, a bit more angrily than he intended but knowing it was an honest emotion. "Why? Do you?"

"Morrigan is prickly, but she hasn't had the social interactions we have had - I think she honestly has no idea how to interact with people - and she is nice to me because I am nice to her. I don't think anyone had ever considered her opinion before I did. Flemeth probably just bossed her around and Morrigan did it because what else was she **going** to do?" she retorted, brow wrinkling in frustration at his deflecting his personal issues with Morrigan onto her once again. "She's given me no reason not to trust her and has proven invaluable as a resource on magic and mages, which I know **nothing** about – **and**, lest you forget, she saved my life outside of Redcliffe Castle. I owe her, Alistair, and if you care for me the way you claim to – so do you."

"I suppose…" Alistair sighed, reluctantly admitting she was right and feeling the sensation of her body turning in his arms as she rolled onto her stomach and leaned forward onto his chest – holding her chin in the palms of her hands and looking up at him with her emerald eyes sparkling.

"Surely you know I didn't **lure** you into my room to argue about Morrigan." Elissa said, her full lips drawing her words out in a sultry whisper that made Alistair's skin tingle and he felt his fingers twitch involuntarily where they lay against her lower back. "Tell me about the Grey Wardens, surely that is a safe topic for discussion."

"Yes… I don't see too much that could cause us to argue," he laughed, his voice shaking a little. "What do you want to know?"

"Do you know where the nearest Warden base is, other than Soldier's Peak – of course?" she asked, noting the slight look of relief on his face now that she was talking strategy.

"That's a good question." Alistair answered, reaching up to settle both of his hands behind his head - and noting with satisfaction that the movement caused Elissa to eye the muscles in his arms appreciatively. "There are plenty of bases in Orlais, but who knows **where**, and the nearest Orlesian city is weeks away from us. If we went north and crossed the Waking Sea, there are bound to be some in the Free Marches – again, however, I don't know where," he continued, noting some emotion pass across her eyes when he mentioned the Free Marches, but as soon as it was there – it was gone - and he knew if he asked her, she would deny it had happened at all. "I'm sorry, I don't know much about the Grey Wardens in other lands."

"Is there not a headquarters somewhere?" Elissa asked, pushing away the quick flare of memory that surfaced – Nathaniel instantly springing to mind when Alistair had spoken of crossing the Waking Sea as she had once done in a youthful fit of passion years ago.

"Here in Ferelden, there's the Warden compound in Denerim, at the palace, but that's it," he replied, and concerned that she might want to travel there he leveled the most stern look he could muster in her direction. "Loghain and Howe will have control of it by now, and be watching it carefully, so going there would be a bad idea... if that's what you're thinking." She frowned at him, and he smirked, feeling pleased he had managed to read her so easily. "Beyond that, the only place I know of is Weisshaupt Fortress… but that's in the Anderfels, a thousand miles from here. I have no idea how to even contact them without getting our hands on the proper instructions for a messenger or something with which to mark a missive with the Grey Warden seal, so… unless we decide to stage some insane raid on the Denerim compound, I suppose the answer is no… there is nowhere for us to go other than Soldier's Peak."

"Well... then we may need to start rebuilding the order," she postulated, twirling a length of hair around her finger thoughtfully. "It can't be good to have only the two of us, especially since from everything we know Warden's are the key to defeating the Archdemon and ending the Blight."

"You're right, eventually we will have to use The Joining to make more Wardens, but I don't know how to do it, or what's involved." Alistair sheepishly admitted, seeing that the more she questioned – the more it became clear he did not have any of the answers she wanted. "I know it requires lyrium and... some other magic, and that it is difficult to prepare, but that's all I remember about it. Unless we can find out more details, I guess we had better get used to the fact that there are only two of us for now… until more figure out what is going on here and show up... though, I wouldn't hold my breath on **that** front either... who knows what Loghain's told the Orlesians or the First Warden to keep them away. They may not know what's happening here at all."

"We're all linked through the taint, so they've got to at **least** be aware there is a Blight - even if they don't know that the Warden presence in Ferelden was decimated at Ostagar. Also, believing that we will have to hold off on resuming with the Joining ritual is not necessarily true... I know you don't like him – but don't forget – Avernus **is** a Warden and has been for much longer than either of us, he will certainly know how to prepare The Joining." Elissa said, watching Alistair roll his eyes at her mention of the mage.

"I thought you didn't want to argue…" he grumbled, moving a hand forward to tuck a curl of hair behind her ear before allowing his arm to settle again against her lower back. "If that's truly your wish, perhaps bringing up the creepy old man who wants to experiment on you is not the best plan of action."

"You're right… I'm sorry…" she said, reaching up to draw his free hand down and kissing the tips of his fingers before laying it across his chest and starting to run her finger in that infuriatingly seductive pattern around the edge once again - the innocent look in her eyes as she did it only making the act more enticing to him. "Tell me how you became a Grey Warden?"

"Same way you did, drank some blood… choked on it… passed out…" Alistair said with a grin. "You haven't forgotten already, have you?"

"Ha ha, very funny!" Elissa replied, rolling her eyes and smacking at his fingers with a grin.

"I do my best, what can I say?" he chuckled, his fingers stroking lazily at the skin of her lower back that had been exposed when she rolled over onto him. "Let's see… I was in the Chantry before Duncan found me… I trained for many years to be a Templar, in fact, that's where I learned most of my skills."

"And what **skills** might those be…" she whispered, her voice husky as she looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and allowed her fingers to slip between the loosened ties of his shirt and stroke at the bare skin below it – watching him take in a shuddering breath in response. "I'm curious… Alistair… if you were raised in the Chantry, have you never…"

"Never…? Never what? Had a good pair of shoes?" Alistair chuckled, deflecting her obvious inquiry with humor as he always did.

"You know what I mean…" Elissa insisted, eyes narrowing at him in light frustration – causing her fingers to still in their torture, but only for a moment.

"I'm not sure I do…" he replied, enjoying the protection of the ruse for a bit longer. "Have I ever seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Licked a lamppost in winter?"

"Now you're making fun of me," she sighed, pouting and pulling away from him until he stilled her by applying pressure with the hand at her lower back, drawing her back against his body.

"Make fun of you, dear lady… perish the thought." Alistair laughed, trying to maintain his humor though his ability to do so was quickly failing in the face of the waves of desire coursing through his body. "Have **you** ever licked a lamppost in winter?"

"No, I have never…" Elissa began, tossing a leg over his body and settling herself astride him – watching his eyes go impossibly wide when she tossed away all metaphor and struck directly at the topic she intended, "…lain with a man."

"Oh… so **that's** what we're talking about…" he swallowed hard, forcing his body to ignore its need to expand when he felt the pressure of her warmth against his own. "I admit, I've never had a woman come right out and… **ask** me like this, that's for sure… though – I suppose with you – I shouldn't be surprised, you're nothing if not direct with your intentions." He watched her fluid motions as she took each one of his arms and settled them around her waist, placing his hands one after another on her hips. "Like you… I have never, had the… pleasure…" he let the word roll off his tongue, watching her eyes shut at the sound of it – his fingers pressing into the soft muscle of her upper thighs at the small moan that escaped her lips. "Not that I haven't thought about it…" _Not that I'm not __**thinking**__ about it…_

"You never had the opportunity?" she asked, her breath coming heavily as she ran a finger slowly up and down each of his arms.

"Living in the Chantry is not exactly a life that breeds rambunctious boys…" Alistair answered, his body shuddering at her touch. "It taught me to be a gentleman in the presence of beautiful women…"

"You think I'm beautiful?" Elissa whispered, her hands stilling as she focused her eyes in on his own – needing to see if he was being honest, or simply speaking through his desire as men often tended to do.

"Of course you are, and you know it," he replied, pulling himself into a sitting position and moving one of his hands up into her hair, sliding the thumb along her jaw to settle at the edge of her lips. "You're ravishing, resourceful, brilliant and a host of other things you'll probably hurt me for not saying."

"I would **never** hurt you…" she insisted, her eyes taking on a more serious gleam as she reached forward and took his face in both her hands.

"Nor I you…" Alistair answered, running his thumb along her bottom lip – watching her lean forward, feeling her breath ghost over his lips briefly before she pressed them against him.

It was insanity, and he surrendered himself to it willingly. All armor gone, the thin pieces of cloth between them did nothing to hide the evidence of his growing desire for the woman now sucking at his tongue and threading her fingers into his hair – though if the way she ground her pelvis against him when he was unable to keep his hips from bucking was any sign, she enjoyed it. Soon his hands were moving on their own, sliding from her hair down to her back – holding her tight against him as he teased at her tongue with his own.

He reveled in the little moans and sighs of appreciation as he dipped his mouth to work its way down the long expanse of throat exposed to him when he tugged her head back with a fist full of her fiery hair. It was only when he felt her hands slip beneath the fabric of his shirt and run up his stomach, pushing his shirt along behind them, that he managed to regain some composure and still them beneath his own.

"Wait… I need to… I need to think a moment…" he struggled with the words, barely able to breathe much less form coherent thoughts.

"If you don't want to…" Elissa said, and he could see her start to withdraw from him as though he was rejecting her directly and not simply seeking to slow something he felt might be moving forward too fast and for the wrong reasons.

"Oh, it's not that… not** that** at all." Alistair ensured her, kissing her again – passionately – before setting himself back to his task. "I just don't want to seem… overeager… aaaaand now I sound like a fool…" his words started to trail off and he fought against his embarrassment - he had to get the words out, to make her understand. "I've never done anything like this… with anyone… I'd never even **kissed** a girl before that night on the dock with you…" he watched her eyes widen in surprise. "A-and now that I'm here with you, **touching** you, I-I feel like a bumbling idiot – all hands." He pulled his eyes away from her, looking down at the hands he'd just spoken of, utterly defeated by his inexperience. "I care for you **so** much, Elissa… I just want this to be right…" When he looked back up at her, she could see his feelings shining in his eyes – and it took her breath away. "I wish I was better at this for you."

"Better? For me?" she replied, chuckling softly as she took his hands one by one – laying soft kisses across each knuckle – then turning them to lay more in his calloused palms. "You're **perfect** Alistair, just as you are… and if you want to wait, then we shall wait… I have no wish to pressure you into something you are not ready for, regardless of how much my body might desire yours at the moment." She watched the color bloom into his face at her bold words, and saw him trying to turn away but reached up to hold his face – refusing to let him. "I care for you too – and that makes it worth the wait."

"Are you sure?" he asked, bringing his hands up to cover hers and leaning forward to rest his forehead against her skin. "I-I'm willing to give it a shot, if you are."

"Let's table it, for now." Elissa whispered, leaning forward to kiss him softly. "I'll not have you waking in the morning believing I seduced you or worse that you somehow took advantage of me. When it's right, I suspect we will know, and we'll decide what to do what the time comes."

"Then we'll wait." Alistair replied, letting out a sigh of relief he hadn't even known he had been holding as Elissa scrambled out of his lap and curled back into the pillows beside him. "Is my face red? I think I need to go dunk my head in something."

"It's no more red than it normally gets when I torment you with my feminine wiles," she laughed, watching as he awkwardly tried to adjust himself to cover the evidence of his attraction.

"Touché," he retorted, starting to stand – figuring he should make his way back to his room now that their make out session had ended, and before they found themselves tempted to start another.

"Stay." Elissa said, the words suddenly jumping out of her mouth – though she never intended to say them.

"You want me to stay here, tonight, with you?" Alistair stuttered, looking as though his head might **actually** explode at the prospect of sharing a bed with her for the evening.

"Yes," she said, watching his head pivot slowly to hers – trying to read her eyes and make sure this was what she really wanted. "I know I'll have wasted money on a room that won't be used but… I'd rather not be alone and I enjoy your company, in case you hadn't noticed."

"You know, I was just thinking the same thing," he chuckled, starting to relax into the idea of being there as she blew out all but the one bedside candle in the room and scrambled under the covers – flipping up the opposite side and patting the for him. "Given the circumstances, things could have been so much worse," he continued, sliding under the blankets and allowing Elissa to curl against him, stroking at her hair with his fingers. "I'm so grateful that you're **you**… instead of some other Grey Warden." He felt her body shake in laughter at his choice of words. "Umm… that sounded better in my head," he laughed. "I just mean, this connection we have… it's... surprising in the best possible way."

"I couldn't agree more." Elissa replied, nuzzling into his chest and enjoying the smell of him, the comforting warmth of his embrace – the last time she had felt so secure she had been lying in Nathaniel's arms… and now, that moment seemed a million miles away - and she found, that for the first time in a long time... she was **okay** with that, "When Duncan dragged me away from Highever and I found myself tossed into the chaos after Ostagar, the last thing I expected to find was you."

"Oh, Elissa… I'm sorry, I sometimes forget about how you came to be in the Grey Wardens." Alistair sighed and pulled her in closer to him, and though she could not make out his face in the dark – she knew the expression he wore was one of sadness and sympathy for her losses. "Do you want to go back to Highever one day, to rebuild – we can do that after all of this has passed… if you wanted… I could go with you."

"Honestly, how did I get so lucky to find myself stuck with such a compassionate heart," she replied, unable to keep her mouth from smiling or the warm tears from prickling at the edges of her eyes. "That you would even offer means more than you know… but, in answer to your question," she sighed deeply, being forced to confront her feelings for the first time since that dark night, "no, I don't think I can ever take it as my home again… after everything that's happened there – it can never be what it was."

"Where will you go – if we live through this, I mean…" Alistair asked, his rough hands running over her back to soothe her. "Is there no place you would consider home?"

"I suppose my home is with the Grey Wardens now, with you." Elissa said, not really thinking about the words simply allowing them to come from her heart.

"I like the sound of that," he replied, yawning sleepily and feeling Elissa mimic it where she lay pressed against him.


	20. Chapter 20: Tower of Blood

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** Little fluff up front, nothing too blatant so should be SFW :) _

_Theme music was Ground by Assemblage 23.  
><em>

_Thanks, as per usual, to everyone reading - and to my Lady Beta!_

_Happy Reading :)_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Twenty: Tower of Blood<strong>_

There was a moment of time when Alistair awoke the next morning in which he found himself confused as to why he was unable to move the right half of his body. Everything was pinned down by the heavy weight of something draped across him. He rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes and looked down to find that Elissa lay sleeping peacefully against his chest.

Her face was completely relaxed and serene and he reached down to brush the few strands of hair that had tumbled across it while she slept. She began to stir at his touch, and he watched her become aware of him in much the same way that he had become aware of her.

"Good morning," he said, a broad smile taking over his face.

"So it wasn't a dream," she mumbled softly, pushing herself up onto an elbow and freeing the arm she'd pinned beneath the weight of her slumbering body. "I half expected to open my eyes and find I'd invented it all in my head."

"I know **exactly** how you feel." Alistair chuckled, scratching at the stubble on his chin. "But I assure you, I'm quite real."

"Hmm… I'm not certain I believe you, this could still be a dream." Elissa replied, that mischievous gleam Alistair was quickly discovering meant he was in big trouble flickering back to life in her eyes as she crawled up his body and lowered her mouth to his. "Best that I test to be sure you are what you say you are."

The kiss was soft and tentative at first, as though she truly did worry that he would disappear and that everything that had passed between them the night before had merely been a trick of her imagination. Alistair was determined not to let her think that way, and wound one hand into her hair, deepening the kiss while he used his other arm to guide her body slightly beneath him as he rolled them over and teased her lips apart with his tongue.

Twenty breathless minutes later, he released her – watching her smile at him with her heavy lidded eyes as she struggled to even out her breathing.

"Alright, I believe you…" Elissa said, her voice heady and thick with desire.

"And** I** believe we'd best get dressed and round up the others before we decide to spend the entire day in bed proving just how real we are to one another…" Alistair answered, the deep rumble of his laughter sending shivers up her spine as they transferred to her own body where she lay pressed beneath him.

"Awww…" she grumbled, forcing herself to get up when he rolled away and drew back the blankets from the bed. "When you put it like that you don't exactly encourage me to get up you know."

"Yes, well… I didn't exactly encourage myself either," he mumbled, watching her toss him a cheeky wink before disappearing behind the changing screen to put her leathers back on. "I'm going to have to lie here for a few more minutes until things… die down…"

"Do tell…" Elissa chuckled, the sultry rich tone of her laughter hitting him like electricity.

"Not helping!" Alistair yelped, pretending to be angry though he was nothing of the sort. "Maker, I'll just put the damn armor on, at least then you won't be able to prod me anymore."

"Oh, I suspect I'll still be able to prod you," she laughed, buckling the last of her chest straps as she came back out and sat on the edge of the bed to re-braid and secure her hair. "You'll just be more uncomfortable when you run out of room to… expand…"

"You are an evil, **evil** woman…" he teased, taking up her spot behind the screen and dressing himself.

* * *

><p>When the two Wardens finally emerged from Elissa's room and entered the tavern, the rest of their companions were already prepared to leave. Sten and Leliana were seated and picking at the bowls of porridge that they had gotten for breakfast while Morrigan paced furiously at the back of the room.<p>

"I see that you finally decided to pry yourself off the Templar and rejoin us," the witch huffed, narrowing her eyes on Elissa with a look she had not seen directed toward herself since they'd first met. "Good, we have much to do. We should make haste to the Circle tower so that we can be done with it and leave this wretched place."

"I-I… w-what? We didn't…" Alistair tried to explain, blushing furiously as everyone, including the suddenly interested bartender's eyes, turned in his direction.

"Oh let it go, Morrigan." Leliana sighed, turning a brilliant and fully approving smile on them. "What they do in the privacy of their rooms is no business of ours."

"The witch is correct." Sten said, his deep voice as neutral as ever regardless of the information he chose to communicate. "Copulation is a distraction and should be avoided in times of war."

"**ENOUGH**!" Elissa yelled, putting a distinct end to the conversation with her anger. "If you want to get going, then by all means let us do so – if you wish to pick apart my personal life and humiliate Alistair, save it for another time when we don't have pressing matters to attend to."

She stormed through the room and down to the Circle dock, leaving a group of stunned and silent companions in her wake. Even Alistair declined commentary, not sure how he was expected to respond between everyone's reaction to their budding relationship, or her furious dismissal of it.

* * *

><p>"You! You're not looking to get across to the tower are you?" the Templar hissed, glaring at Elissa as she sauntered toward him. "Because I have strict orders not to let <strong>anyone<strong> pass."

"Well, I need to get to the tower." Elissa replied, the anger still flowing within her from her previous conversation making it hard for her to slip into the voice she needed to persuade the Templar to do as she wanted.

"No one gets to the tower! **No one**!" the man repeated, continuing to stare. "The tower is off limits to all!"

"I need the First Enchanter's help." Elissa continued, ignoring the man's words which seemed to incense him more.

"**No**!" the Templar yelled, crossing his arms over his armored chest. "I've one job, and one job only, and by the Maker's shiny gold cutlery I **will** do it!"

"I doubt the Maker **has** cutlery." Elissa drawled, snorting derisively at his inane joke.

"Oh, and he's **told** you that has he?" the man retorted, equally unimpressed by her humor. "Well, you're **still** not getting in the tower."

"I have documents that compel the Circle to help me…" Elissa began, pulling her pack around and beginning to dig for the scrolls – then handing over the one for the Circle Mages upon locating it.

"Oh, a Grey Warden seal… so you're claiming to be one of **those**," the man sighed, unimpressed as he returned the scroll to her hand. "You know, **I** have some documents too… they say I'm the Queen of Antiva, what do you think of that?"

"Not much, you're obviously a Templar." Elissa retorted, allowing her eyes to drift down his body and settle on his pelvis for a moment. "And… so far as I can tell you're a **man**… right?"

"Yes, well I can **prove** how much of a man **I** am if you like…" the Templar replied, his voice lowered dangerously as he stepped forward to leer at her. "And unless **you** have some way of **proving** who you are, I'm not letting you in."

They stared at one another as the seconds ticked past, neither backing down or releasing the angry gaze. Alistair thought the man might actually grab at her and moved himself closer in case he had to intervene, he'd be damned if the man put his paws on Elissa, whether she'd goaded him into it or not.

"Anyway… it was nice talking to you. On your way, right now – **go**!" he continued, waving them away.

"Knight-Commander Greagoir won't like that you've given us trouble." Alistair said, struck with an idea as it became clear when the Templar turned his back on them that Elissa wasn't going to make any progress without drawing the man's blood.

"Oh **really**!" the Templar snorted, turning to glare at Alistair indignantly. "You think Greagoir would be upset with me for not letting you in? Wait… actually, considering that treaty **could** be real, you're probably right… he would… good point."

"Well, we should probably try our best to prevent that, don't you think?" Alistair asked, noting the pride in Elissa's face as she smiled at him for his ingenuity.

"Hmm… I'm sure he could deal with the lot of you…" the Templar noted, glaring at Elissa for a moment derisively before turning back to Alistair. "Come on then, I'll take you over."

Morrigan had shifted into raven form as soon as they stepped out of the tavern, choosing to perch on Sten rather than Elissa in her anger – and so it took only a moment to load the group into the boat and begin the short ride to the Tower docks.

"Perhaps I should let you do the talking more often." Elissa whispered, leaning close to Alistair's ear and laying a light kiss against it before settling back for the ride.

Alistair could swear he heard the bird mutter something in disgust before fluttering off ahead of them noisily squawking the entire way.

* * *

><p>Upon entering the tower, Morrigan shifted back into her human form – still staying away from Elissa, who tried her best to pretend that the woman's ire did not hurt her. The witch had been with them since the beginning, and despite her thorny demeanor - Elissa had come to rely on her advice and take comfort in her friendship. Contemplating the idea that allowing herself to pursue a relationship with Alistair would likely cost her that friendship was doing nothing to improve her mood, and so she finally just let it drop away from her mind.<p>

Moving through the first doors, they saw a group of Templars in deep discussion – an older gentleman with much more intricate armor at the midst of the group, whom Alistair noted to be Knight-Commander Greagoir.

"The doors are barred." Alistair whispered in her ear as they approached the group, nodding toward the back of the room. "I wonder if they're keeping something out or in."

"Knight-Commander Greagoir, I assume." Elissa said, parting the sea of Templars with the melodious sound of her voice and moving up to face off against the man.

"Yes… and who are you? I explicitly told Carroll not to bring **anyone** across the lake," the man huffed, glaring at each of the surrounding Templars in turn. "We are dealing with a very delicate situation. You must leave for your own safety."

"No." Elissa replied simply, not raising her voice in anger – its tone remaining smooth and rich with only a slight undercurrent of steel as she tilted her chin defiantly at the Knight-Commander. "I have a treaty that obligates the Mages to aid the Grey Wardens, I will see that promise honored."

"I grow weary of the Grey Wardens' ceaseless need of men to fight the darkspawn, though it **is** their right," the man sighed, rubbing at his forehead in exhaustion and frustration. "But I'm afraid you will find no allies here. The Templars can spare no men and the mages are… indisposed. I shall speak plainly: the Tower is no longer under our control. Abominations and demon's stalk the halls."

"This is why we cut the tongues from mages in Par Vollen." Sten mumbled, sharing an angry glare with Morrigan who was not impressed.

"I will admit to agreeing with your… companion," the Knight-Commander admitted, tossing a quick glance to Sten. "Maker knows the qunari wouldn't have gotten themselves into this position."

"How did this happen?" Alistair asked, confused how it was possible that they could have lost control so completely – things like this weren't supposed to happen, it was the entire purpose behind the construction and maintenance of Chantry-run Circle Towers.

"We don't know." Greagoir admitted, hanging his head in shame. "We saw only demons, hunting Templars and mages alike. I realized we could not defeat them and told my men to flee."

"You didn't even **try** to fight against them?" Elissa gasped, eyebrow arching in surprise. "Isn't that the entire purpose of the Templar presence here, to defend against such an incursion?"

"They took us by surprise, my Lady," the man attempted to explain, knowing that on some level Elissa was right to accuse him of abandoning his charges. "We were prepared for one or two abominations… not the horde that fell upon us."

"What is your plan now that the Tower has been taken?" Alistair asked, hoping that he was wrong to believe in what he thought was coming.

"I would destroy the tower, raze it to the ground, but I cannot risk more of my men." Greagoir explained, eying Alistair cautiously and wondering why he seemed so familiar. "The doors remain shut, and they shall protect us for now."

"You shut **everyone** in there?" Leliana gasped, stepping forward to fill the spot Morrigan usually took at Elissa's other shoulder. "Even innocent mages?"

"Not just mages, my Templars are in there also." Greagoir retorted, a bit angry that these intruders believed he held specific disdain for the mages alone. "I had no choice. The abominations **must **be contained at all costs. We do not mean for the doors to stay closed forever. Everything in the tower must be eliminated before they can open. I have sent word to Denerim, calling for reinforcements and the Right of Annulment."

"The Right of Annulment?" Elissa asked, reading the look on Alistair's face instantly and understanding enough to know that whatever it was, it wasn't good.

"The Right of Annulment gives the Templars the right to neutralize the mage circle… **completely.**" Greagoir explained, watching Elissa's eyes widen in surprise then narrow angrily. "The mages are already dead and any abominations in there must be dealt with no matter what. This situation is dire… there is **no** alternative, everything in the tower must be destroyed so it can be made safe again."

"Mages are **not** defenseless." Elissa insisted, sharing a glance with Morrigan who almost smiled her approval before remembering she was still cross with her. "Some must remain alive."

"If any are still alive, the Maker himself has shielded them," the Knight-Commander answered, hoping she was right though he doubted it was possible. "No one could have survived those monstrous creatures. It is too painful to hope for survivors and find … nothing."

"How can you stand there feigning concern and despair when it was **you** who locked them all in there and left them to this fate?" Elissa yelled, taking another step forward toward him in her fury – but relaxing when she saw his remaining men arm themselves in response.

"And what would you have had me do? Leave the door open as the abominations poured out?" Greagoir replied, waving his men to relax though his voice was thick with anger.

"He-he's right, Elissa." Alistair interjected, watching her turn to him with disbelief mixing into the anger of her eyes. "All the circles have doors like these, they're **meant** to prevent abominations from getting loose."

"What if I were to clear the tower?" Elissa offered, refusing to believe there was no hope for those that remained inside unless she saw it with her own eyes – but not sure if she should mention her intentions were rescue rather than securing aid for the Warden army. "Would you lend me aid against the Blight?"

"**If**, by some miracle, you destroy the abominations… yes, the Templars will join your army." Greagoir agreed, inspecting the young woman before him with trepidation. "Without word from Denerim, it will be up to me to determine our course – and surely fighting darkspawn is a worthy cause."

"We have an accord then." Elissa replied, offering her hand to the Knight-Commander who shook it sternly.

"A word of caution…" he said, keeping her hand trapped within his vise-like grip. "Once you cross that threshold, there is no turning back. The great doors **must** remain barred. I will open them for **no one** until I have proof it is safe… and the proof I require is that the First Enchanter stands before me and **tells** me it is so. If Irving has fallen… then the Circle is lost and must be destroyed… and you and any who travel with you along with it."

"I understand." Elissa responded, tugging her hand free and moving her group toward the doors. "And **you** should understand that I have no intention of failing in my task. I will clear the tower of your creatures and return with any who yet live within – and then I shall hold you to your word that your Templars or your mages will give the Grey Wardens your aid."

"Maker protect you, girl." Greagoir responded, watching her company pass through the doors and his men bar them behind her. "I hope you are right…"

* * *

><p>The sound of the doors shutting and being barred behind them echoed ominously through the empty halls between them and the first set of dividers that sectioned off the first floor of the Ferelden Circle Tower. Just inside the door the group found a number of bloody bodies – both Templar and mage alike – all crumpled lifelessly to the floor. The two long dormitory chambers were no better, nothing living remained.<p>

"Remind me, won't you, why I agreed to come into another tower?" Elissa asked, poking a couple of the corpses with the toe of her boot as they wound their way through the empty hallway. "You'd think I'd have learned my lesson after the first one… our trips into these things never end well…"

Alistair chuckled at her grim humor, squeezing her shoulder briefly as she flipped open the first closed door they had encountered and stepped through the archway into the next section of rooms.

Elissa allowed herself a small smile upon seeing that inside the chamber were a small group of mages who fought against anything that managed to slip through the magical boundary they had erected at the next doorway. They were uninjured and most importantly **alive**.

"Can you tell if they're possessed?" she whispered to Alistair as they slowly approached them.

"Not a clue," he replied, "but I suspect we will know if they try to eat us."

"Stop right there!" one of the women said, spinning on the Wardens and their companions with a dangerous gleam in her eyes – she was much older than the rest of them, but the power of her magic rolled off in waves so strong that Elissa almost faltered against it. "Take another step and I will strike you down right where you stand, I **swear** it."

Elissa started to respond, anger rising within her that this woman would assume she entered simply to kill indiscriminately – but that fury disappeared rapidly when she saw several small children trembling just beyond the defensive mage and her companions.

"Wait, there are **children** in here!" Elissa said, incredulously – how **could** Greagoir have condemned them to such a fate? – she turned to Alistair for some sort of comfort, but he had none and pulled his eyes away shamed by what had happened, and by what he had almost become.

"I am Wynne, mage of the Circle, and these children are under my protection," the woman answered, relaxing her position a bit as she inspected Elissa and her companions. "Who are you and what is your purpose here? Have the Templars opened the door? Speak quickly, I've no time for games!"

"I am a Grey Warden, and though I originally came here seeking aid against the forces of the darkspawn… I now see that there are people here who need my help before that can happen." Elissa explained, dropping all pretenses and allowing her voice to settle into the neutral honesty that was natural for her. "I promise you, I only want to help."

"I'm certain Greagoir told you that the Circle was in no shape to offer you aid." Wynne snorted, finding it hard to believe that anyone would willingly offer aid to a group of mages without a guarantee that they be given **something** in return. "And I'm certain that the Knight-Commander would not open the doors to you lest you promised him something in return. Tell me, did you come here to eliminate us? Were you promised Templar forces in return for your services?"

"I will not lie to you, Greagoir did agree to lend his men to our cause should we help to secure the tower again." Elissa explained, watching the elder mage's shoulders shake as her fury built anew. "However, I will tell you – as I told him – I have **no** intention of taking the lives of innocents. I will rid the tower of abominations, demons and any other monstrosities that stand in my way – but I will **not** take the lives of innocents – mage, Templar or otherwise."

"Though I have every reason to doubt you… I find myself wanting to believe in your words, young lady." Wynne replied, a slight smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "If we make it through this nonsense I will have a word with the First Enchanter myself, and if there are mages left to offer to your cause, then you shall have them."

"Truth be told, they'd be much preferred to Templars." Elissa laughed, ignoring Alistair's wince at her brutal honesty - it made him wonder if she included him among the Templars she held in such low regard. "I'm hesitant to trust anyone who kills sight unseen."

"So they **do** plan to launch an attack against us?" Wynne asked, hearing the things that Elissa purposely had not given words.

"The Right of Annulment has not yet arrived, but they have sent for it." Elissa answered, moving with Wynne over to the other mages so that they could hear the tidbits of information she now freely relayed.

"They sent for it then… I feared they might." Wynne sighed, shrugging her shoulders defeated. "What else could they do?"

"Greagoir thinks the Circle is beyond help. He presumes you all to be dead." Elissa explained, noting from the corner of her eye that Alistair did not seem to approve of all the information she was passing along – and choosing to ignore that fact.

What was being done here was wrong on any number of levels, if he could not see that - then he was not the man she thought him to be.

"They abandoned us to our fate, but even trapped as we are – we have managed to survive." Wynne responded, rubbing at her brow wearily. "If they invoke the Right, however, we will not be able to stand against them – even with your efforts added to our cause."

"Can you tell us what happened here?" Elissa asked, watching Alistair distance himself from her in his turmoil, leaving Morrigan all too happy fill the spot that he had vacated in his frustration. "It will help me to decide the best way to proceed if I can better understand exactly what we are up against."

"Let it suffice to say, that we had something of a revolt on our hands, lead by a mage named Uldred." Wynne began to explain.

"Uldred! He was at Ostagar, I met him with Duncan." Alistair said, putting his issues aside and approaching the group once again. "I hadn't known he survived, I thought we were the only ones."

"You were at Ostagar?" Wynne asked, looking in surprise from Alistair to Elissa.

"Elissa and I were the only Wardens to survive." Alistair explained, the haunted look Elissa had come to learn was associated with his memories of Duncan quickly taking over his face.

"Were you now?" Wynne asked, a grey eyebrow arching as she inspected the two of them with much more respect. "Well, several of the mages and regular infantry managed to survive as well, Uldred and myself among them… though, Uldred didn't come back quite right."

"I'd say that's a bit of an understatement, don't you think?" Elissa laughed, holding the woman's gaze to ensure she understood the younger woman meant no disrespect.

"Perhaps." Wynne allowed, chuckling softly herself. "When he returned from Ostagar, he tried to take over the tower. It didn't quite go as he planned, as you can see… I don't know what became of the man himself, but I am **certain** this is all his doing – and I will **not** lose the entire Circle to one man's pride and stupidity."

"From that, I'll assume you have a plan." Elissa said, crossing her arms and waiting to hear what the older woman had come up with.

"For now, I've erected a barrier over the door that leads into the rest of the tower – it's managed to keep most things out thus far, and allows us to protect the children." Wynne explained, calling Elissa's attention to the glowing magical film across the door in front of them. "You will not be able to proceed further unless I remove it, which I will **only** do if you agree to band with me to save this Circle."

"You have my word, I will do everything in my power to prevent the needless slaughter of innocents." Elissa said, carefully choosing each word she said so that she neither agreed nor disagreed to too much or too little. "However, the tower must be cleared completely of all threats before the Knight-Commander will open the doors to us. That may require taking some lives on which you and I cannot come to an agreement."

"I imagine we will find some way to reach a decision we can both take comfort in." Wynne replied, offering her hand to the younger woman who took it and offered a strong shake. "We will eliminate all the demons and abominations and lead the survivors out. Once he sees that the tower is safe again, he will tell his men to back down. He is not unreasonable."

"I expect you will find him to be slightly **less** reasonable should we return seeking to exit **without** the First Enchanter." Elissa said, shaking her head. "Greagoir refuses to open the door to anything less than the word of Irving himself."

"Well then, I suppose we had best hope that we find him alive." Wynne shrugged, moving with Elissa toward the barrier that would allow them to proceed.

"You take a **Templar** to your bed though you clearly hold them in contempt, and now you expect me to assist this preachy schoolmistress on a hopeless quest to rescue these pathetic excuses for mages?" Morrigan hissed, golden eyes narrowing on Elissa who had momentarily forgotten just how angry the witch had been with her that morning. "They **allow** themselves to be corralled like mindless cattle. Now their masters have chosen death for them and I say let them have it!"

"Morrigan, I know that you are angry with me about what you think happened with Alistair – and you have my word that we will discuss it later." Elissa said, holding a hand up to stop Alistair from intervening – though he continued to seethe nearby. "For now, please, try to understand that part of why I choose to do this is that these mages could easily have easily been **you** had things been different. If someone were to try to put you down like a dog simply for being who you are, I would fight for you to my last breath, and I will give these people no less. If you cannot see the truth in that, then I ask that you at least respect my decision."

"So you think **I **could be here had my mother not shielded me from the Templars, and that means I should show them sympathy?" Morrigan laughed, the heartfelt truth of Elissa's words sinking in though she tried to maintain her fury. "Mother often said that things were the way they were because they could not be another way… but I always questioned this…" she admitted, her posture starting to relax before she turned her chin up haughtily and looked away from Elissa, refusing to give her the satisfaction of watching her give in to her demands. "Fine, do what you wish, I care not."

"Petra, Kinnon… look after the others." Wynne instructed, seeing the last barrier between her aid falling as the witch's temper cooled. "We will be back as soon as we can."

"Wynne… are you sure you're alright?" the woman Wynne had identified as Petra asked, looking hesitant to allow the elder mage to continue forward. "You were so badly hurt earlier, maybe I should come along…"

"The others need your protection more." Wynne replied, holding herself with even more poise when she realized that Elissa now inspected her with an even more careful eye, expecting to see some sort of gaping wound or perhaps a missing limb she had somehow missed. "I will be alright… stay here with them, keep them safe and calm."

"Have faith in your friend if you cannot have it in me." Elissa encouraged when she saw that the others began to lose hope at the loss of the elder mage. "I will allow her to fail no more than I would allow it of myself."

"Your confidence is refreshing… though you should make sure it does not blind you to your weaknesses." Wynne whispered to her as soon as they had moved out of range of all but her own companions. "If you are ready, I will remove the barrier and have Petra seal it behind us. I'm somewhat amazed I've managed to maintain it for so long."

"Extraordinary times require extraordinary things of us." Elissa said, completely missing the telling look on Wynne's face in response to her words – or the way that Alistair carefully noted them himself, as though he was seeing her in a completely different light now than he had in the flickering candlelit glow of her room.

"More true words have never been spoken," the elder mage said, shaking out her fingers and preparing to undo her barrier. "Be prepared for anything. I do not know what manner of beasts lurk beyond this barrier."

"I am ready." Elissa said, arming herself and setting her companions on alert with a curt nod. "Destroy the barrier at your leisure."

* * *

><p>The group moved slowly and silently once inside the barrier. The very air around them hummed with things unnatural, and Elissa could see even at a distance that the library they were headed into had been completely torn apart. Shelves were overturned, books ripped in two or set on fire, bloody corpses of Templars and mages were scattered around the broken tables and shredded paper – now nothing more than detritus, their life force having seeped out of them hours ago.<p>

As Elissa stepped across the threshold that separated the hall from the library, a rage demon sprang forth from the floor and several lumpy, malformed flesh creatures lumbered toward them, their wretched howls ending the silence that had once been with torment.

"Abominations." Alistair whispered, noting the expression on Elissa's face shift from neutral to horrified when she realized these had once been men and women, now twisted into something terrible when their most basic desires had been allowed to take control.

She quickly worked her face back into a mask of neutrality; forcing herself to cut through these monsters the same way she would cut down anything else that threatened her safety or that of her friends. Once she had refocused, it did not take long for the group to clear the first floor of anything that moved or lurked within it – pushing forward up the stairs to the second.

* * *

><p>The entry room of the second floor was empty, except for one man who stood in what appeared to have once been a store, desperately trying to tidy up the destruction.<p>

"Please, refrain from entering the stockroom," he said, his words even and monotone. "It is a mess and I have not been able to get it back into a state fit to be seen."

"What are you doing here?" Elissa asked, her voice lowered into a soothing whisper that Alistair recognized was the one she had used on Bevin after they'd coaxed him from the wardrobe back in Redcliffe. "It isn't safe."

"I was trying to tidy up," the man replied, his eyes blinking and free of emotion, "but there is little I can do."

"Are you not afraid of the abominations?" Elissa asked, sheathing her weapons in confusion – something about this man was not right, but she could sense he was no threat to them.

"Of course. I am defenseless and if I ran into one I would surely perish," he replied, but his words came in the same even tone they had from the beginning – if he was afraid, Elissa could not sense it in him. "I tried to leave when things got quiet. That was when I encountered the barrier. Finding no other way out, I returned to the stockroom."

"Owain, you should have said something." Wynne tsked, stepping forward and patting the man's shoulder. "I would have opened the door for you."

"The stockroom is familiar," the man said, looking around him. "I prefer to be here."

"How can you be so calm?" Elissa asked, starting to wonder if she had been wrong – if indeed there was something going on within him - it was the only way she could make sense of him having no reaction to the horrors around him.

"He is one of the Tranquil, the Tranquil do not have emotions." Wynne explained, as if that should mean something to Elissa.

"Tranquil… I-I don't understand…" Elissa replied, watching Morrigan and Leliana look away – one in fear of Elissa's reaction and the other in general disgust – and so she turned to Alistair - leveling a gaze at him that said she fully expected an explanation. "What does she mean he has no emotions?"

"Perhaps this isn't the best time to…"Alistair started, looking to the others for support and finding none offered.

"Tell me what it means, and tell me now!" Elissa demanded, and he knew she would stand there until he did – her anger growing by the minute.

"Any mage deemed too weak to resist demonic temptation or too dangerous to be allowed full access to their powers is given the option…" Alistair started, unable to fully meet Elissa's eyes when he knew she was going to hate every word out of his mouth.

"Given the option!" Morrigan snorted, striding forward angrily. "There is no **other** option for them – 'tis Tranquility or death – tell her true **Templar**, for if you do not – I will."

"She's right… if they do not submit willingly they are forced into the Ritual of Tranquility, or put to death for rejecting it." Alistair admitted, hanging his head in shame.

"And what does this **ritual** entail?" Elissa asked, the force of her fury starting to boil within her – increasing the pace of her breathing.

"'Tis essentially a magical lobotomy!" Morrigan hissed when Alistair took too long to respond. "They use a brand fashioned of pure lyrium to sever the mage's connection to the Fade, and with that take away their personality, emotions, ambitions, even the simple ability to dream leaving them these walking husks. 'Tis better not to live at all than to live a life such as this!"

"How barbaric!" Elissa gasped, spinning on Alistair then on Wynne in her fury. "Who allows this? Is it the Chantry or the Circle itself?"

"It is the Circle that institutes it." Wynne answered, her voice remaining calm though Elissa could see that she too harbored frustration with the practice. "Though it is the Chantry that directs our course."

"Why would you continue to submit yourselves to such a thing?" Elissa said, pointing to Owain in illustration and becoming even more frustrated when he had no reaction even to that.

"What choice do we have?" Wynne replied simply, crossing long delicate fingers in front of her. "It is the way things are done, it is the only way we know… and while I am certain we could sit here debating the pros and cons of magical management all day, we have other things we must attend to."

"I would prefer not to die." Owain said suddenly, refocusing Elissa back to her task. "I would prefer if the tower returned to the way it was. Perhaps Niall will succeed and save us all."

"Who is Niall? What is he trying to do?" Elissa asked, hopeful that another mage was alive and attempting to fight against the encroaching tide of demons.

"I do not know… but he came here with several others and took the Litany of Adralla." Owain replied, picking up a few scattered objects and depositing them into a box.

"But that protects against mind domination…" Wynne noted, a look of complete confusion washing over her stern features. "Is blood magic at work here?"

"I do not know." Owain repeated, continuing to clean.

"Niall was in the meeting before all of this began, if it is involved – he would know." Wynne continued, looking to Elissa. "And if he is right, then this situation is much more dangerous than we'd imagined."

"How would the type of magic being used make things worse?" Elissa asked, feeling slightly embarrassed by her lack of magical knowledge and making note to correct that as soon as she could, even if it meant tying Morrigan to Alistair and refusing to separate them until she learned everything they knew.

"Blood magic could control you, Elissa." Morrigan said, moving forward protectively as if she understood how the woman was feeling. "It could control all of us."

"We should find Niall." Wynne insisted, offering her own support and noting the slight look of approval she received from the witch for doing so. "The Litany will give us a fighting chance against any blood mages we might encounter."

After making several unsuccessful attempts to get Owain to go downstairs and join the others, the group was forced to move forward and leave him to his task – hoping that he would somehow be safe in his storeroom.

* * *

><p>At the doorway to the next room, Morrigan stopped Elissa with a hand on her arm, turning the woman's attention her way.<p>

"There is a barrier blocking passage from that room." Morrigan whispered, leaning in close to her ear to keep from attracting the attention of the three humans standing on the opposite side of the room. "'Tis being maintained by blood magic."

Elissa nodded, making sure that the others had heard as well, and then charged into the room to take the group of mages by surprise. Alistair smote the strongest one into silence, he and Sten bearing down upon him while Morrigan paralyzed the second allowing herself and Leliana to work on her leisurely.

Elissa used every trick in her arsenal to keep her target stunned or incapacitated as she hacked away at her, stopping when the woman dropped to her knees – her companions already dead on the floor beside her.

"Please, **please** don't kill me!" the woman sobbed, shaking uncontrollably.

"Why should I spare your life?" Elissa responded, staying her blade but holding it steadily near the woman's throat just in case she should try anything.

"I know… I-I have no right to ask for your mercy," the woman said, her voice broken as she cowered beneath the force of Elissa's wrath, "but you have to believe we did not mean for this death and destruction to occur! We were just trying to free ourselves!"

"Summoning demons is **not** the answer." Elissa replied, though Alistair could see she was wavering – her sympathy toward the mages' plight softening her iron will. "And from what I've learned of it, neither is blood magic."

"You don't know what it was like!" the woman sobbed, tears flowing heavily from her eyes. "The Templars were watching… always watching…"

"I understand the feeling of being trapped more than you might imagine." Elissa admitted, thinking back to the many times she had felt lost to her fate as a noble girl, and how she'd wanted nothing more than to run away and be free of it. "But what you have done here will only make things worse for mages everywhere."

"We thought… someone always has to take the first step…" the woman struggled to explain, knowing that Elissa was right – what they had done, would not help them to gain their freedom. "We aimed to force a change, no matter the cost."

"Nothing is worth what you have done to this place!" Wynne spat, her righteous anger more than making up for the cooling in Elissa.

"Uldred told us that the circle would support Loghain, and that Loghain would help free us from the Chantry," the woman stuttered.

"Loghain, **Loghain** was involved in this!" Elissa hissed, her sword raising back up to the woman's throat at the mention of his name.

"Y-yes…" the woman stuttered, terrified of the change in the woman who held her fate at the point of her blade. "The Teyrn instructed Uldred to quit the field with him, it's how we survived Ostagar."

"I should have known!" Elissa said angrily, tossing a glare at Wynne for deciding to leave out that fact when she talked of surviving – and smiling to herself when the elder mage looked cowed by her fury.

"And now Uldred's gone mad and we are scattered," the woman cried, her eyes wide and terrified. "Doomed to die at the hands of demons or those that seek to right our wrongs."

"You could be fighting to save yourself, to save others… but you sat here with your **friends** plotting who knows what and wallowing in self pity." Elissa hissed, pressing the tip of her sword against the woman's skin – stopping only when Alistair stepped forward and tried to calm her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"What else can I do? I am trapped in here and I am alone?" the woman sobbed, completely broken by the venom in Elissa's words.

"For starters, you can remove that barrier you erected." Elissa said, gesturing over to it with her other blade. "**We** need to keep moving forward, to undo what you have done."

"If I do this, will you spare me?" the woman said, holding Elissa's eyes and playing the only hand she had left to play as best she could.

"I will spare you, but I will not help you escape." Elissa said, dropping her sword. "If you make it back to the others, so be it, but you will do it on your own."

"Thank you! Oh, thank you!" the woman said, falling forward at Elissa's feet and pawing at her as she tried to stand. "The Maker will surely turn his eyes on you for your mercy!"

She scrambled over and dropped the barrier, running down the hall toward Owain's storeroom before Elissa could change her mind.

"You have done a good thing." Leliana said, her voice happy as she laid a hand on Elissa's shoulder. "She is right to think that the Maker will think on this with pride."

"Hmph." was all Elissa had to offer in return, she had no time for the bard's useless prattle about the Maker and his **plans**.

* * *

><p>Elissa was irritable following their encounter with the blood mages and while that may have made traveling with her a bit uncomfortable, her companions could not deny that any time she found herself even a tiny bit angry… she cut through everything that lay between her and her goal even faster.<p>

The first room they came to after the barrier was filled with abominations and the first wave of reanimated corpses they had encountered since entering the tower. Elissa's ire spiked again and she grumbled about how tired she was of encountering people who simply refused to stay dead.

The second room was empty, or it appeared to be until the armoire in the back corner started to rattle around when they were leaving. Elissa gestured to her companions to remain silent as she sidled closer to it listening for any sign of what was in there.

"It's all right," she said when the sounds proved to be human in origin – possibly a blood mage, but at least not an abomination or one of the walking dead. "You can come out now."

"Are the demons gone? Is it safe?" the muffled, shaken voice whispered from inside. "I don't want to d-die."

"I've dealt with them… **trust** me." Elissa replied, rubbing at her brow in irritation – her normally soothing _I'm speaking to a frightened child_ voice strained with her impatience.

"Oh…" the voice replied, and the doors parted slowly – revealing a head of tousled sandy blonde hair and the shaken mage who emerged with it. "Ow… ah, yes."

"Are you hurt?" Elissa asked, beckoning Wynne over in case her healing abilities were required.

"I have a crick in my back and my bum's gone numb," the mage replied, and Elissa stopped Wynne's motion with another flick of her wrist realizing the man was just fine. "Oh, holy Maker… **look** at this!" he exclaimed, eyes going wide as he looked at the carnage in the archway to the room where they had cut down a slew of abominations. "Those things didn't know what hit them, did they?" his eyes were wide as he turned back to her, offering his hand in polite introduction. "Godwin, mage of the Circle of Ferelden, at your service."

"Pleased to meet you." Elissa replied graciously dipping her head to him in salutation.

"Not nearly as pleased as I am to meet you. I'm ever so happy you came along when you did." Godwin said, beginning to tremble again as he thought over his ordeal. "There were demons everywhere, blocking my exit. I decided the best thing for me to do in that situation was to hide… and be very, very quiet." He looked around, still unsettled and not satisfied that the threat had passed. "As much as I really want to be somewhere safe… I think I might just stay here for now… maybe go back into my closet for a little while…"

"I've killed all the demons and undead I've come across between here and the main door." Elissa assured him, pointing him in the right direction with a sweeping gesture. "You could go back that way safely. There are others waiting behind the barrier who would let you through. You'd be better off there with them than in your closet alone."

"I'd just be stuck there as well, the Templars have barred the door and will let no one pass beyond it… and a large concentration of mages is nothing but a lure for the demon kind." Godwin said with a shake of his head. "No… I think I'm just going to stay here, see what happens."

"Do what you wish." Elissa replied, rolling her eyes and dismissing him with a wave of her hand before moving toward the door – unwilling to continue to debate with the man when there were more important things that needed doing. "Your life is your own."

"Thank you for saving me." Godwin called as she passed over the threshold of the door and out into the hall. "May we meet again in happier, less life-threatening times!"

The last Elissa heard of him was the closet door clicking shut behind him.

* * *

><p>The next room held another group of blood mages, so distracted by their battle of words that they did not notice the abomination lurking behind them until it was too late. The demon made quick work of them well before Elissa could intervene, and as she made quick work of it she realized she wasn't <strong>too<strong> broken up that she had been unable to save them and wondered what that made her.

In the large room Wynne explained as the access point to the storage tunnels, they were assaulted by several waves of rage demons and abominations. When all of them were put to rest, Elissa took a moment to inspect the room. Something had caught her eye as she was hacking away at one of the demons – and she knelt to retrieve a small glass vial from the base of a ruined statue of Andraste.

Her hand stilled just within range of it, cold radiating off the glass in palpable waves. Inside the vial Elissa could make out waves of swirling darkness, their patterns giving every impression that whatever lay within was a living entity.

She reached to take it, hearing Wynne's words of caution about strange phylacteries too late, and watched as the glass shattered at the light brush of her fingers. The dark liquid pooled on the floor then gathered itself into a thickening fog… shaping itself before her eyes into a form she quickly recognized as a Revenant.

She made a move toward it, but found herself unable to reach it having been tossed off balance by Alistair as he charged forward.

"Oh no you don't!" he grumbled, slamming his shield against it while it still struggled to find its bearings. "I nearly lost you to one of those things in Redcliffe, I'll not have you take one on again."

She started to argue, but the look on Alistair's face told her such action was pointless – and so she slipped in behind the creature, working with her companions to drop it quickly back to wherever it came from.

The last room on the floor was the First Enchanter's office. It was empty, and the group set about exploring it for any sign that the man remained alive somewhere within the portion of the tower they had not yet reached.

"I can't find anything of use." Wynne said finally, looking around in frustration. "If Irving is alive, nothing in here is going to help us to find him."

"Well, let's be moving along then." Elissa replied, pulling the little book she had found out of his desk and tucking it quickly away in her pack before anyone else saw it.

On the pages she had seen mention of Flemeth, and thought that Morrigan might want to see it. Perhaps it would cool the witch's temper a bit.

* * *

><p>The third floor landing was empty, one doorway blocked with a stack of furniture forcing them to take the other direction. Elissa did not like feeling as though she was corralled toward something… but she had no choice but to press forward in the one direction she was allotted.<p>

They fought through a room teeming with undead, abominations and an Arcane Horror before Elissa stopped them in the third room they came across. She walked forward, poking at something on the wall with her sword – the fleshy substance giving way to a disgusting gloppy ooze beneath it. No one could name what it was, though Wynn suggested it was a sign that the corruption Uldred had set free was now taking full possession of the tower down to the very stone of its structure.

Mutilated corpses were strewn all around the room, what had formerly been both Templar and mage broken down into the same blood and bone that made them all. It was a humbling equalizer, death. There were no differences when the labels of the living world were torn away.

The next room was filled with possessed Templars, all of them having fallen victim to the desire demon floating seductively in the back of the room. The creature reached out her clawed fingers to Alistair, coaxing him toward her with an enticing roll of her hips.

"I don't think so!" Elissa hissed, grabbing his arm and turning him toward her. "I'll knock you out before I let you go to her, Alistair, and you know that. Now **focus** on these Templars while I dispose of that bitch."

He nodded, clearing the fog from his eyes before setting himself on the task Elissa had given him, watching as she made quick work of the demoness at the back of the room.

A quick clear of the skeleton archers and a powerful abomination that held guard over the door that led to the fourth floor, sent them moving up the stairs.

* * *

><p>The fourth floor held the Templar quarters, and the destruction there was the worst they had seen thus far. The entry room was full of rubble and the walls and floors were almost covered in the disgusting tissue like growths they had encountered in sporadic clumps on the floor below.<p>

The first room they came to after the entry way held another desire demon and a single Templar, locked in what appeared to be a loving embrace.

"Everything is just as you wanted, my knight," the demon whispered, stroking gently at the man's cheek. "Our love and our family is more than you hoped for."

"I command you to stop what you are doing to this man!" Elissa yelled, fury that had peaked when Alistair had been tempted the floor below now boiling full force at the sight before her.

"Do you hear something, love?" the Templar asked, his voice and eyes far away.

"It is nothing, my darling, just the door. I will get it," the demon reassured him, turning to Elissa with fire in her eyes. "The children have finished supper, tuck them into bed while I see who it is."

"Don't be long," the Templar continued, smiling from his faraway place. "The children will want to kiss you goodnight."

"I will be but a moment, my pet," the demon assured him, smiling as her voice changed from seductive to angry when she directed herself to Elissa. "You are intruding on a loving, intimate moment and I **dislike** disruptions."

"There is nothing loving **or** intimate going on here…" Elissa hissed, beginning to circle the demon like a huntress circles its prey.

"I have given him what he always wanted," the demon replied, allowing a bit of the anger to drop from her words and replacing it with honey, "where is the harm in that?"

"His happiness is an illusion." Elissa answered, looking briefly at the man in sympathy before turning back to the demon. "A cruel lie."

"All emotion is intangible… you cannot see it, cannot touch it," the demon replied, turning her body with Elissa's movements so that she could not be flanked, "what makes what you **feel** any more real than what I give to him in these moments?" the thing continued, tossing a pointed look at Alistair and then smiling at Elissa's response to her gesture.

"Emotion is caused by something **real**… real events, real people." Wynne replied, her quick mind understanding exactly what the demon was attempting to do by manipulating Elissa and her feelings toward her fellow Warden. "What you've done to him is… abhorrent."

"I saw his loneliness, his longing for a family that loved him…" the demon replied, shrugging her shoulders. "I see many things in you, beautiful girl… many desires I could fulfill if you but asked it of me…"

"So you could hold me in the same stupor you hold him?" Elissa laughed, the sound cold and harsh as her eyes narrowed in anger. "Would I even know it when my body failed and death claimed me? Will he?"

"A short, blissful existence is preferable to an interminable one of misery, don't you think?" the demon replied, unwilling to give up just yet.

"Somewhere in there you actually **believe** you're doing a good thing, don't you?" Elissa asked, arching her eyebrow incredulously.

"We are partners," the demon replied. "I give him what no one else can, and through him, I experience what it is like to be mortal."

"This is no symbiosis! You are a parasite and he deserves to be free of you!" Elissa hissed angrily, her eyes narrowing to slits. "He deserves to find his own happiness."

"Freedom cannot be given." Sten's voice rumbled from behind her, turning Elissa's face to him for a second. "The Templar must choose it for himself."

"And how is he to find it with that thing hanging over him?" Elissa yelled, gesturing at the demon with the point of her sword.

"If you help this man, what does he learn?" Sten asked, crossing his arms in challenge. "Nothing. He will fall victim to the same trap over and over again and **you** would condemn him to such."

"I'm sorry, Sten." Elissa said, shaking her head. "I can't leave him like this."

"Our thoughts and spirits are now melded… if one perishes, so does the other," the desire demon warned, narrowing her eyes fully on the woman who threatened her. "Though much of **my** strength is spent from maintaining this link, in his mind I am both his wife and his children… and he will defend me to the death if need be. I only wish to keep what I have and to that end, I request that you leave us alone."

"So you can drain him then move on to someone else?" Elissa laughed, flipping her swords around in her hands and crouching into a fighting position. "I think not."

"Then you leave me no choice," the demon replied, turning back to the Templar and shifting her voice back into one of fear and seduction. "Help! There are bandits at the door! They are going to murder the children!"

"They will not get past me!" the Templar growled, charging forward.

Elissa danced aside, allowing her companions to deal with the man while she went after the desire demon. She cut the thing down with even more fury than normal, angered at the attempt it had made to sway her will - knowing that a part of her had wanted to see what the demon thought to give her... wondering if it would have been Nathaniel and the life she could have had.

Her anger propelled them forward quickly, cutting through the group of Templars being controlled by a blood mage like a warm knife through butter, before coming to a stop in the floor's central chamber.

The room had been overtaken by the fleshy growths that had become progressively more apparent as they had moved through the fourth floor.

"Niall…" Wynne said, her voice a pained whisper as she eyed the bloody prone form lying at the feet of the Sloth Demon Elissa now found herself standing face to face with.

"Oh look, visitors," the demon said, his words soothing and soft. "I'd entertain you but… too much effort involved…"

"What have you done to Niall?" Elissa demanded, shaking her head as though she could drive away the demon's touch on her mind with the gesture.

"He's just resting… poor lad… he was so very, **very** weary…" the demon assured her. "You seem weary as well… wouldn't you like to just lay down and forget about this… leave it all behind?"

"Can't… keep… eyes open…" Alistair said, and she heard him yawn loudly as he fell to his knees behind her – then toppled forward against the floor. "Someone… pinch me…"

"Resist! You must resist…" Wynne said, falling down herself – but holding Elissa's eyes long enough to get her point across. "Resist Elissa, else we are all lost…"

"We must stand…" Sten insisted, his words possessing strength his body clearly did not as he too dropped under the overwhelming need to rest. "Must fight…"

"I'll not listen to your lies demon..." Leliana said, wobbling on her feet "you have no... power... over me..." with her last assertion, the bard two dropped to the floor face down in the muck and corruption growing upon it.

"This is ridiculous!" Morrigan yelled, crossing her arms angrily as though she could defy the demon's will "you cannot expect me to rest on a floor sticky with blood!"

Elissa almost believed that the witch would pull it off and save them all, until the woman's eyes rolled violently back into her head and her limp body crumpled to the floor near her feet.

And then, Elissa stood alone, the effort she was expending to keep herself conscious wearing on her more heavily than any combat they had yet been put through. She was sweating and gasping for breath when she finally fell to her knees.

"Why do you resist, young one?" the demon asked, and Elissa found herself unable to move as it stroked along her cheek with its dark fingers. "You deserve so much more than these others… so much more than what you have been given… you deserve to rest. The world will go on without you."

The demon lowered her carefully to the floor, stroking at her hair in a gesture that made Elissa in her addled state believe herself abed back in Highever with her mother comforting her to sleep. A few moments later she too had surrendered herself to the blissful arms of the Fade.


	21. Chapter 21: In the Fade

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:**__ This chapter definitely needs a __**NSFW**__** WARNING**! It is by no means over the top or graphically vulgar (at least **I** don't think it is) but there__** is**__ adult content and so I wanted to make sure readers were warned! It all occurs during Elissa's personal Fade nightmare – so, if you just want to avoid that and read the rest – you should be safe from the adulty portions._

_Thank you to my readers and followers and my newest reviewers, and to my faithful Lady Beta __**artemiskat**__._

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-One: In the Fade<strong>

Elissa had taken the longest and most detail oriented bath of her life, and now stood pacing anxiously next to her bed – the short blue nightgown she had chosen brushing lightly against her thighs as she moved.

She did not hear him open the door, noticing him only when she turned mind stride and saw him standing there - emotions warring on his face as he looked her over – desire was clearly evident, but there was... **more** – something as yet unnamed that hung heavily in the air.

_Nathaniel_, her heart sang, skipping a beat as she lost herself in the stormy gaze of his steel grey eyes.

He closed the distance between them, standing so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, but he made no move to touch her – gray eyes holding green – waiting, she assumed, for her to take the initiative and show him this was indeed still what she wanted from him. She reached out and took his hand, drawing him slowly to the bed in confirmation. When her knees hit the edge, she sat and scooted back to lie against her pillows – waiting for him to follow behind her.

Nathaniel crawled across the bed, stopping to kneel just between her knees – the long creamy expanse of her legs exposed where the hem of her mid thigh length gown ended. The deep indigo of it made it appear as though her milky skin glowed in the flickering candlelight of her bedchamber.

He reached forward, pulling her into a seated position – taking her hands in his and looking at the linked fingers as he tried to still his thundering heart. As if she read his mind – could sense his hesitation - she leaned forward – and after what seemed a lifetime of near misses and intentional avoidance, she brushed her lips softly against his own.

All resolve crumbled, the last vestiges of anything within her that possessed the ability to fight against the swelling tide of her feelings for him gave way. He deepened the kiss, encouraging her lips to part for him and sliding his tongue carefully into her mouth.

Elissa responded in kind, coming to her knees and crawling onto his lap, tugging insistently at his hair and kissing him as though he was the very air she needed to breathe - showing him that she was, without a doubt, in love with him too.

She pulled away from him for a moment, and he looked at her quizzically before watching her fingers slide down and start to pull his tunic across his stomach and up across his chest. He flipped it off his arms and tossed it onto the floor – reaching over to kiss her again, leaning her back into the soft bed as she explored his mouth with her tongue.

He could feel the bare skin of her legs on his rib cage; he reveled in the sensation of her long fingers running delicious trails against the bare skin of his back. This time it was him who pulled away, gray eyes pinning green with the last vestiges of control he could muster.

"Are you **certain** that you want this, Elissa? That you want it to be **me**?" Nathaniel asked, fighting against her as she repeatedly tried to reclaim his lips. "We are rapidly approaching the point of no return, if we continue in this manner, I will not be able to hold myself back from you; and once this is done – it is done, there is no undoing it."

"Why must you always doubt that I know my own mind – my own… **heart**, Nathaniel?" Elissa questioned, a slight frown creasing her features as she stroked his jaw, gently tracing the edge of his bottom lip. "I **want** this and I want it to be with you, and **only** you. I do not wish for you to hold yourself back. I give myself to you fully, and would hope that you will do the same for me."

Hearing those words was all he needed to throw caution completely to the wind. He pressed her back against the mattress, kissing her passionately - one hand in her hair as he slowly slid the other along the smooth expanse of her outer thigh - seeking to remove her small clothes – but when he reached the smooth skin of her hip, he found nothing there.

"A-are you… are you **naked** beneath this?" Nathaniel asked, his voice breaking in his passion.

"I did not expect that I would need my underthings, as you would only be removing them later." Elissa replied, laughing slightly as she used her teeth to lightly nip at his throat.

"I swear, woman, you will be the death of me," he growled, taking her mouth again – feeling her fingers searching for the laces at the front of his breeches as his hand found purchase against her soft breast through the fabric of her gown. "Though I suspect I shall, at least, die a **very **happy man."

"You are no innocent, **Nathaniel**," she whispered huskily, her voice hitching when his thumb grazed her nipple. "You bewitched me years ago – I have been putty in your hands ever since."

They were both lost in one another, consumed by the heat of their bodies winding together. Elissa felt him shift his body, giving himself room to slide his pants over his hips and push them down – deftly kicking them to the floor with a flick of an ankle. She chuckled, and looked appreciatively over the expanse of his lean body – feeling the pressure of his length against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh as he settled against her once again.

"Did you lock the door?" Elissa breathed, her eyes glancing over to it as Nathaniel worked his teeth down the skin of her shoulder as he pulled her gown aside.

"Yes, I locked the door." Nathaniel replied, his words muffled against her breast as he took the hard bud of her nipple into his mouth.

"Oh, Maker's mercy!" she gasped, her body arching of its own accord – her hands finding purchase in his ebony tresses as he shifted his attention to her other side.

She should have been in ecstasy, she should have been lost in the sensations he was sending coursing through her body – but instead she found herself unable to shake the sensation that the door had not been locked properly and that someone would walk through it and catch them at any moment.

"Nathaniel, oh… **oh**! Nate… I-I need you to…" Elissa muttered, forcing herself to ignore the way he was making her whole body come alive and pull his face up from her navel and meet her eyes. "Please, check the door for me. I can't shake the feeling that someone is going to walk in and catch us."

"Honestly, Lissa… you **really** want me to get up and go check the door? Can't you just take my word for it?" Nathaniel huffed, rolling his eyes at her dismissively before trailing kisses back down her body and attempting to settle back to his task.

"Please, Nathaniel… humor me and check the door…" she repeated, pushing him away insistently before he could distract her once again with his talented mouth.

"Elissa, I can assure you no one is going to come through the door because no one is here but us," he replied, looking up at her long enough to offer a half smile before returning to the path of kisses he left as he slid her nightgown lower and lower. "Now just relax and enjoy this."

She laid back and did as he asked, feeling the chemise of her gown trailing down her legs and off over her toes until he left her naked before him. She felt the warmth of his lips, feather light, beginning at her ankle and making their way up her leg leaving fire trailing behind them. She wanted to give herself over to it – but she could not, something nattering away in her mind that would not give her rest.

"Nathaniel, have we... done... this before?" Elissa asked, the haze within her suddenly clearing – giving her the distinct sensation that she had lived these moments before.

"What? Made love? No… this is the first time…" Nathaniel laughed, the warmth of his breath sending shudders through her body as it blew across her thigh. "I am certain you would remember had we lain together before."

"You're right… but I-I cannot put aside the feeling that all this has happened before," she replied, moaning as he moved ever closer to what she knew to be his destination.

"You're imagining things, Elissa," he insisted, his voice taking on a harsh tone as though he was annoyed with her.

She looked down at him then. He was visibly perfect in every detail, physically **exactly** as she remembered him… but his personality was... **off**. Nathaniel would never pressure her in this way, especially when it came to the subject of her maidenhead. He would never dismiss her questions as though she were some simple child.

It was then she knew – this **had** happened before, somewhere in her memories of long ago. What she saw now was not real, and neither was Nathaniel.

"Stop, **stop**!" Elissa screeched, shoving him off of her forcefully. "I know what this is… I know you aren't real – this is a memory that's been manipulated. You and I… **Nathaniel** and I never made it this far. Fergus came through the door and stopped it."

"What are you talking about?" Nathaniel hissed, his face wrinkling in anger as he glared at her. "You sound like you've gone off in the head!"

"Perhaps, but what I say is true," she answered, tilting her chin up angrily and holding his eyes. "**You** are not Nathaniel. The man I loved would **never** speak to me in this way."

"The man you loved?" he laughed, crawling up over her and pinning her down lightly with his body. "So am I to understand you love me no longer, that you've replaced me with another?"

"I could never **replace** you, Nathaniel." Elissa whispered, stroking at his face tenderly though she now knew him for what he truly was. "Even should I choose to open my heart to another, part of it will always belong to you." He looked up at her then, believing she had again accepted his lie - laying a tender kiss against her lips and leaning into her welcoming embrace. "I'm sorry…" she whispered, closing her eyes as she pushed the dagger her hand had pulled from the bedside into his heart with as much strength as she could muster.

"Why?" the demon groaned in Nathaniel's voice, before falling heavy and lifeless against her.

When she opened her eyes, the illusion had been broken. Her bedroom was gone, she was fully clothed, and the body that lay atop her was that of a now deceased desire demon. She shoved it away, curling into herself and sobbing.

He had been an illusion, but the emotions he had brought back to life in her had been real… the sensation of killing him, had been real. She allowed herself to wallow in her misery for only a moment longer before pulling herself together and standing to take in her surroundings.

* * *

><p>Nothing about The Fade was constant. It was a shimmering, intangible, ever moving landscape composed of bits and pieces of memory and pure fabrication. Elissa struggled to make sense of the place she found herself in – parts of it looked to be walls, but parts were simply nondescript dirt landscape.<p>

On a nearby hillside stood an odd looking pedestal with something similar to a sundial in the center of it.

_Touching this could be very, __**very**__ bad_, she thought, her mind drifting back to the phylactery that had broken beneath her fingers producing a demon in its wake and wondering if she could take on another Revenant if touching this structure also revealed one. "Honestly, Elissa, what choice do you have?" she muttered aloud, taking in a deep breath and worrying her brow in frustration. "It's either touch the scary odd pedestal or wait for more demons to come and put on Nathaniel's face."

With that, she reached her hand forward and laid it on the sundial portion of the pedestal. At her touch, something she could only describe as a map opened within her mind – showing her the pathways that linked various portions of the Fade. Clearly all of them led **somewhere**, to her companions she hoped, but at the moment only one was open to her – and it led to a place that had been labeled The Raw Fade.

She made a conscious effort to choose that point, setting her mind to it – and when she opened her eyes again, she indeed found herself to be elsewhere. Just ahead of her, down a slight slope, stood a man dressed in the robes of a Circle mage. Elissa noted how handsome he was – a fact that made her wonder if he was another desire demon. It seemed odd that it would choose to take the form of a man she did not know, but perhaps desire demons simply assumed mortals thought any body would be acceptable for seduction purposes.

"Who are you? Where did you come from? Are you a demon?" he demanded, similar thoughts to her own now running rampant in his mind as inspected her cautiously. "No… wait… I can see that you're not." He said finally, his body and face relaxing, "You're like me… well, then congratulations on getting out of your trap!"

"Thank you, it doesn't feel like much of a victory," she replied, her face sullen and haunted as she remembered Nathaniel's limp body falling on her as she took his life. "M-my companions…" she stuttered, pulling herself back to focus, "are they trapped somewhere too?"

"You came here with others?" the man asked, arching an eyebrow. "Then, yes, they would be trapped too. The demon traps everyone who comes here in a dream that they can't… or won't… try to leave. I thought I'd succeeded when I escaped my own illusion, but I've been wandering these grey segments of in-between for a lifetime."

"Who are you?" Elissa asked when it suddenly occurred to her that she didn't even know his name.

"My name is Niall," he replied, smiling at her. "I was trying to save the Circle when I encountered the sloth demon. I expect our experiences were similar."

"Niall! Owain mentioned you!" she said; hope surging forward inside her – Wynne had mentioned that this man would know how to fight the evil now trapping them in their own minds. "My name is Elissa."

"Owain helped me greatly, though I suppose now I'll never be able to repay him…" Niall answered, his brow furrowing in sadness and despair. "The Litany he gave me was to be our weapons against the blood mages' domination, but it's too late… everyone is dead."

"Why are there so many blood mages here? How on earth could they have combined their forces so seamlessly under the eyes of the Templars?" she wondered aloud, her Fade body moving through the motion of pacing – hoping that it would bring her the same ability to focus that it did in reality.

"I don't know. They must have been practicing in secret, teaching others… I **knew** these people… trusted them…" the mage replied, his voice breaking with emotion. "I had hoped with the Litany… but now… this place drains you of everything: hope, feeling, life…"

"We will find a way out, Niall." Elissa assured him, her voice steel – her mind focused. "I give you my word."

"No, there is no way out of here. You think there might be… I know that look, I've worn that face… but you are wrong. There is nothing." Niall insisted, shaking his head and worrying his hair with his long fingers. "You see that pedestal there?" he called her attention to the one nearby, the one identical to the other she had used to come from her personal nightmare into the Raw Fade. "I've studied the runes on it… runes that signify different islands of the sloth demon's domain."

_Islands… okay that's what the end points are… but what of the points inside?_ she thought, pondering it briefly before turning her attention back to the mage.

"The sloth demon itself is on the center island, but you can't get there," he continued. "The five islands around the center somehow form a protective ward. I thought I was getting somewhere when I figured that out, and I went to each island in turn… only to have my hopes dashed," he said, his face twitching as wave after wave of emotion flowed over it. "There's **always** an obstacle! You'll see the path **so** clearly, but be unable to travel it… and it will taunt you until it drives you mad."

"Calm yourself, Niall, and refocus." Elissa said, realizing she needed to switch tactics and set about reassuring this poor tormented soul before she would be able to turn their joint energies toward solving the puzzle. "Can you do that for me? I know, it is a lot to ask – and a lot for you to give me as I am a total stranger – but I believe that we **can** do this, together, I just need your knowledge for I am quite ignorant of the matters of magic and the Fade."

"You are no mage, then?" Niall asked, and Elissa shook her head. "I suppose the armor should have given it away, but I have seen Arcane Warriors who dressed in a similar fashion…" he contemplated her request, hesitating between remaining in his resignation or allowing himself to hope again. "Alright, I will help you as best I can – but do not blame me when we fail."

"If we fail, I will only blame myself," she assured him, squeezing lightly at his hands. "Now, tell me what you can about this protective ward."

"I don't know much. I-I think the sloth demon has placed lesser demons on each of those islands," he answered, releasing her hands as she started to pace again. "I've seen them. They shift between different shapes, but they exist. Defeating them and their leader may be the only way to unlock the pathways that lead to the sloth demon. But you'd have to get to them first… I couldn't… I was too afraid to try."

"We are all afraid of something, Niall – we all falter in the face of the unknown, there is no shame in admitting as much." Elissa replied, meeting his eyes so that he understood she thought no less of him. "You mentioned obstacles before?"

"Yes… obstacles and… **mad** dream things – a river of flame before a portal, a door which shows you freedom through a keyhole into which no key will fit…" Niall described his torment to her, and she began to see why the man had been so daunted. "I once found a passageway smaller than my hand with a mouse going to and fro through it. Silly thing fled before I could question it."

"Well, you probably appeared menacing to something so small," she chuckled, thinking of him chasing about after it. "I doubt very many vermin are sought for questioning."

"And **I** doubt it was truly a mouse. Almost everyone you see here is a dreamer or a demon." He replied, watching recognition cross her features as she absorbed his revelation. "Each dreamer will know things that another may not. The mouse could have told me what lay beyond the tiny passage or how to get there. Perhaps, even, how I might make myself small like him and crawl through myself." He continued, and Elissa's brain sped – starting to unravel the puzzle. "If one could become small enough to travel one path, there would have to be similar ways to travel the others."

"Could my companions be on one of these islands?" Elissa asked, wondering if she cleared the correct barriers if she could make her way to them.

"I… I don't know. There are many dreamers." Niall answered. "It is possible that you might find a way to reach them in the islands."

"What about the demon that holds us here… a sloth demon, I think you called it…" she said, knowing that ultimately they would be forced to confront it. "Can you tell me anything about it?"

"It will not let us go easily, if at all," he said, shaking a bit as though he'd felt a chill. "I know that much."

"Then I will simply have to defeat it, then it will have no choice." Elissa said, coming to a stop in her pacing and tossing a wicked grin at Niall.

"You make it seem so easy." Niall laughed in reply.

"I doubt it will be, but it doesn't hurt to wish for it," she shrugged, moving off toward the pedestal. "I'll be back."

* * *

><p>When she lay her hands upon the pedestal, she was presented again with the map she had seen when last she touched it – and, just as before, no pathways other than the one leading between where she was in the Raw Fade and where she had been trapped before, was open to her.<p>

_Then something **here** must lead forward_, Elissa thought, beginning to explore the area around them until she came across a fluttering purple energy barrier. Though it looked similar to the barrier that Wynne had erected to keep the demons away from the children – it offered no resistance when Elissa touched it, in fact, she could swear that her fingers vanished once they had crossed beyond it. _Nothing ventured, nothing gained_, she thought, stepping fully into it.

She lost herself for a moment, feeling broken up into bits and intangible before coalescing on the other end of what she now understood to be a portal. Before she could even attempt to wrap her mind around what had just happened, she heard the sounds of battle and pulled loose her blades, charging down the hillside in front of her.

Just ahead a rage demon lurked, menacing what appeared to be a mouse. The poor creature stood no chance against the demon, and so Elissa screamed at it – drawing the attention onto her self and raining hell down upon it.

When she'd finally put the thing down, she turned her attention to the creature – broken and bloody at her feet. She knelt, and reached to cradle it in her hands, wishing she had some ability to heal or comfort it.

"Thank you… but it's too late for me…" the creature whispered, and Elissa found herself stunned that the idea of a talking rodent didn't strike her as at all unusual. "Kill Yevena… the demoness that rules here… she protects her master… Sloth."

"Where can I find her?" Elissa asked, stroking at the tiny furry head carefully.

"There is a door… a door only demon's can touch… it remains intangible to mortals," the mouse explained, its tiny body heaving with the effort it expended to relay the information to her ears. "The key must be in another realm…"

"Do you know how I can travel there?" she continued, sensing the time it had remaining was quickly slipping away. "I've been unable to find a way out of the Raw Fade."

"T-take my power… save any others you find trapped in nightmares… kill the demons that guard Sloth…" the creature mumbled, its tiny voice growing more and more quiet with each word. "Make my…"

Elissa watched the life leaving its body, the energy hanging before her in the air for a moment before slicing forward through the air and planting itself in her chest. She fell forward, dropping the tiny corpse and clutching at her chest as an odd sensation flowed through her. After a few moments, she stood, holding her arms out and inspecting her body.

_He gave me his power… but how do I use it?_ she wondered, wishing that Morrigan were there. Though the witch would have chastised her for her ignorance, she would also have known exactly what to do. Unable to come up with a better plan, she closed her eyes and focused on the memory of the mouse. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself much closer to the ground.

_Did I fall down?_ she wondered, considering the idea that she may have passed out from the simple effort of trying to access the power she'd been afforded, before catching a look at her body and realizing that it was much furrier than she remembered _Wait, I'm a mouse! His power was a shapeshift! _She explored her mind further, finding that she could cloak herself in stealth very similar to the one she used as a rogue. After popping herself in and out of the form enough times to be comfortable, she began to explore the area and found one of the mouseholes that Niall had mentioned.

Knowing there was no way out of this but to move forward, she dropped back into mouse form and moved through the passage. After taking down another couple of demons each past their respective mouseholes, Elissa emerged from another violet portal and back into the Raw Fade.

"Something happened, didn't it?" Niall said, excitement beaming through his eyes as she approached him. "I can sense something different within you. Tell me, please!"

"You were right. I found your mouse, and he taught me this." Elissa answered, dropping down into her new shape and popping back up before him.

"Did you… did it help?" he asked, unable to contain his questions – his hope renewed with her unexpected success. "I know I told you of the tiny holes. Were you small enough to get through?"

"I was indeed, and I-I… well, I don't know exactly how to explain it… I felt something **shift** within the Fade," she continued, moving over to the pedestal and verifying what she had sensed to be true. "There are new pathways open to us, we've unlocked the next islands."

"You are so much braver than I am. I was so certain it was impossible to get anywhere…" Niall said, excited by her success and shamed by his failure. "I was so willing to give in and to waste away here in my indifference."

"You **are** brave, Niall. I would never have even known what to look for had you not shared your knowledge with me." Elissa said, rubbing his back reassuringly. "This victory is ours together, not mine alone."

"Do you think you could learn other shapes?" he asked, nodding to her – excitement springing anew under her encouraging fingers. "Maybe they will help us get to places we couldn't otherwise."

"The mouse did say that there were other dreamers… dreamers I should wake so that they could share what they knew and add their powers to his own," she explained, her eyes unfocused as they inspected the map from the pedestal once again. "There appear to be four separate islands I can now access; one labeled darkspawn invasion, one mages asunder, one the burning tower, and the last is called Templar's nightmare." She refocused her gaze on him, seeking explanation. "I've no idea where to go first. Do you have any suggestions?"

"No…" Niall responded, shaking his head sadly. "You've gotten further than I ever have. I've no idea what comes next."

"I have to assume there is no order, and given that assumption I must choose the thing I am the most familiar with." Elissa smiled, giving herself over to the pedestal once more. "Wish me luck," she whispered, already fading away from the mage and into the island she had chosen.

* * *

><p>As a Warden, Elissa felt most comfortable with the idea of darkspawn – and thus had chosen to visit the island labeled as "The Darkspawn Invasion" first. When she rematerialized she found herself in the Fade's version of a castle like structure. Using her skills as a fighter to cut down several waves of darkspawn, and her newly gained mouse-shifting ability to navigate around the maze of flame walls and intangible doors that Niall had warned her of – she soon found herself in the presence of the island's dreamer.<p>

He did not speak to or acknowledge her presence until she destroyed the ghostly darkspawn entities that had held the Templar Spirit hostage for so long.

"They're gone. You… you did it! You killed them and freed me," the spirit said, smiling at her wearily. "Their leaders are behind the unbreakable door. I give you my wisdom, it will let you see…"

The spirit touched her face as he faded away and again Elissa felt herself shake as a pulse of energy traveled into her. She searched her mind for an access point to the knowledge he had shared with her and felt herself shifting into another form.

She held out her arm and inspected it, finding that this form was something akin to what Alistair had told her were called Arcane Horror's. It seemed likely this was the form they held before being tainted by the touch of demon kind. In this form she could see things that hadn't been there before, and could interact with objects that had previously been intangible.

_Well, this takes care of the untouchable doors_, she thought, shifting back to herself and moving to the Fade pedestal to travel to her next destination.

* * *

><p>"Same setting, different cast." Elissa mumbled, looking around to find herself in a castle like structure that looked identical to the one she had just left.<p>

It was so similar she had gone back and accessed the map once again, just to make sure she was indeed in The Burning Tower as she had intended to be – and verifying that to be true – she moved forward with her task.

Now she had two forms with which to circumvent the tricks and traps as she battled through waves of demons and other monsters to locate this island's dreamer. When she found it, she expected another battle against things that held him trapped – but what had trapped this one was his own anger.

She was forced to battle the Templar Dreamer into submission before he was free and willing to impart what he had learned to her.

"The anger… fading… I am free…" the dreamer said, falling to his knees as the living flame of his anger extinguished from his skin. "You must destroy the door… other dreamers have other powers… you will need all… it is the only way," he encouraged, holding to Elissa's hand as he started to shimmer and fade. "Take this power and burn them, burn them all… they bar the way to Sloth… go…"

His energy pulsed up her arm, settling in her chest like living fury, and she shifted without thinking – finding herself in the body of a walking flaming man. In this form she could pass through the walls of flame immune to the damage they would have caused her regular body.

_Two more to choose from_, she thought, shifting back to normal and moving once again to the Fade Pedestal.

* * *

><p>She had wasted precious time in the choosing, and she knew it. Neither the idea of a mage torn asunder nor a Templar's nightmare appealed to Elissa – but forced to choose, she had gone with the mages – something in her unwilling to pit herself against a castlescape full of Templar's just yet.<p>

This trial proved the hardest thus far, waves of insane mages would have broken her several times had she not shifted into her Burning Man body and made herself immune to the hurricanes of flame they kept throwing in her direction. It was the first time that she sincerely wished she had Alistair with her, his ability to smite even one of them would have made her fight through the island infinitely more manageable.

She expected to find another Templar locked away in torment, as all the previous dreamers had been such, but this time she found a mage desperately fighting off more crazed mages and a couple of lumbering stone creatures she knew from her studies to be golems.

He cried out to her in fear, the shimmering barrier of the thin shield he had erected around himself starting to give way under the heavy fists of the golems. With his help, the two casters were easily dispatched, but Elissa had no idea how to go about dismantling animated stone. She danced around, dodging and listening to the clank of her blades as they bounced harmlessly off their stone skin.

"I don't know how to kill these things." Elissa yelled, becoming concerned that she'd come as far as she could within the puzzles of the Fade.

"There are small gaps in the stone armor near joints, the neck and eyes," the mage replied, freezing one in some sort of damaging field and tossing an electric shock into the system of the other – which Elissa noted it did **not** like. "If you can get close enough to wedge your blade into those weak spots, then you can eventually short circuit the system effectively _killing_ it."

She nodded, taking advantage of the golem's temporary loss of focus after the jolt of electricity and throwing herself onto its back. The creature flailed its arms, occasionally catching Elissa in her hips and thighs as she stabbed away at the exposed inner workings in his neckline. She wasn't sure if your physical body carried the injuries your spirit form received in the Fade, but if so – she was sure she would emerge black and blue – and either way, it still hurt like a bitch.

By the time she dropped the first golem and made her way to the second, the mage had already taken care of it with his detention fields and electricity spells. It had been easy without the other golem and the mages beating on him.

"Thank you for saving me," the mage panted out, smiling softly. "But it is time for this dream to end. I give to you my strength. It will be of little use against the demon that rules here, but perhaps it will be of use in other realms. It is the last of the powers, which you seek, may it serve you well. Seek out the sloth demon and end this nightmare for us all."

Elissa felt a wave move over her as the mage passed along his power then faded away. She accessed her new ability and found herself lumbering about in a large golem body.

"Handy," she muttered aloud, shifting back to normal and returning to the Fade Pedestal.

* * *

><p>She felt somewhat cowardly for doing so, but put the Templar's Nightmare off once more – instead choosing to return to each of the islands she had previously visited and using her full set of abilities to solve their puzzles and destroy their demons.<p>

Elissa wasn't sure how much time had passed when she finally returned to the Raw Fade, but from the relieved look on Niall's face, she assumed she had been gone for a while.

"I was worried you were lost!" the mage breathed, rushing forward and folding her in an embrace.

She was taken aback for a moment, but finally relaxed into it – hugging him back.

"I solved them, Niall – I solved the puzzles!" she said, beaming at him as she pulled away. "I released the dreamers that held the protective barrier in place and collected their talents. You were right about everything!"

"I **knew** you could do it!" he beamed back at her. "This means the pathway to the sub-demon who protects sloth should now be open. Can you access it?"

"Yes… but other pathways have opened too." Elissa explained, watching his brow furrow in confusion. "They aren't labeled but there are **five** islands… it's too coincidental, Niall, it's where my friends are being held. I can't leave here without them."

"I must caution against this." Niall warned, shaking his head at her. "You do not know what holds them there and they may not even be willing to come with you – if they have given in to the illusion, you may have to kill them to end their torment. Are you capable of doing that?"

"If I must, yes – though I have faith it will not come to that," she replied, refusing to believe them lost. "My companions are all strong of will, they will not succumb to such lies easily, and if they have – I will not leave them here to suffer as those dreamers did for so long."

"Your loyalty is… touching," the mage said, smiling sadly at her. "I can see that I will not dissuade you, so instead I encourage you to make haste. Every moment you spend here allows sloth to gain more control over your mind."

She nodded and ran to the pedestal, picking the closest island and traveling the pathway.

* * *

><p>When she rematerialized she immediately recognized Morrigan's voice floating to her from somewhere within the twisted landscape. From the words she spoke and the tone of her voice, Elissa was relieved to find that the witch was completely aware that she was stuck in an illusion.<p>

If she thought about it, she wasn't really surprised. Morrigan was not easily fooled by anyone or anything – it was one of the many things about the woman that Elissa admired. What **did** surprise Elissa was the illusion that the Fade demon had chosen to attempt to sway Morrigan with. It was Flemeth, or the demon's interpretation of Flemeth.

In much the same way as Nathaniel had been off, so too was Flemeth's personality, and Morrigan was having none of it.

"Away! Away with you!" Morrigan yelled angrily. "I shall have no more of your pestering!"

"I am your mother… do you not love me?" Flemeth replied, and Elissa almost laughed aloud – Flemeth, the **real** Flemeth, would never have said such a thing.

"You are as much my mother as my little finger, right here," Morrigan wiggled her finger in the demon-Flemeth's face, "is the Queen of Ferelden. I **know** you, Fade spirit, you cannot fool me!"

"Are you more clever than your own dear mother? Surely such pride must be punished!" Flemeth yelled, smacking Morrigan hard across the face, sending the witch stumbling back a couple of steps in astonishment. "There! That is for not showing respect!"

"That is **far** more like it, but it is too little too late, spirit!" Morrigan huffed, her slight smile widening as she caught sight of Elissa. "'Tis you at last! Come and help me to rid us off this vexatious spirit. I have grown weary of being prodded."

"Why does it prod you so?" Elissa wondered aloud, inspecting the Flemeth duplicate carefully. "My demon didn't ask any questions at all…"

"I expect it cannot even read my mind well enough to form a decent copy, and so it hopes that I will provide it with enough clues in conversation for it to repair itself." Morrigan laughed, looking upon the demon in disgust. "Silly thing doesn't seem to understand it can never fool me now."

"She doesn't even acknowledge her own mother!" the Flemeth-demon commiserated to Elissa, as if she could share in its pain. "My heart, it breaks!"

"Ugh… slay it! And quickly!" Morrigan insisted, pulling purple flame into her hands as Elissa freed her blades. "Even the true Flemeth was never as annoying as this!"

The two of them made quick work of the demon who was just as inferior to Morrigan's real mother in power as it had been in conversation. Unlike Elissa who was tormented by being forced to take the life of her illusion, Morrigan showed no sign of being even slightly disturbed by taking the life of the false Flemeth.

"'Tis about time!" Morrigan chastised, still slightly irritated with Elissa though it was quickly dissipating under the wave of relief that both felt in finding one another again. "I knew you would come, I just hadn't expected it to take you so long… did you get lost?"

"Several times." Elissa chuckled, sheathing her swords and smiling. "I'm not like you, Morrigan, this place – I come here only in dreams and there are no puzzles then. It's been a bit overwhelming without you there to guide me."

"I shall have to tutor you in the ways of magic." Morrigan said, crossing her arms and inspecting Elissa with a critical eye – though Elissa could see the warmth beneath it. "I cannot have you wandering about like a ninny… that is most…" she stopped, holding her arms up and catching Elissa's eye as what looked like flames began to overtake her. "Wait… what is this? No! Not this again! I refuse!"

She looked to Elissa; panic in her eyes, but by the time Elissa moved forward – she was already gone. Wherever she had been taken, Elissa was certain remaining where she was would do nothing to get her back, and so she moved back to the pedestal and traveled to the next island.

* * *

><p>On the next island she found Sten, the great qunari equally aware of his illusion – though, unlike Morrigan he did not appear to be fighting to leave it.<p>

"Shanedan," he said, smiling his half smile as Elissa approached.

"Who are you talking to?" one of the demons asked, two of them having taken the form of what Elissa expected were Sten's former companions.

"Don't bother the Sten." The other one said, wrinkling his brow. "Isn't it your turn to cook?"

"Cook what? There's no food in this miserable frozen country!" the first qunari grumbled, glowering at Elissa as though it was her fault.

"Parshaara!" Sten growled, silencing the two immediately. "We have a guest. Make room at the fire."

"Why do they call you '**the** Sten'?" Elissa asked, taking a seat on the ground next to him.

"The same reason they call you '**the** Warden'." Sten answered, smiling cryptically at her.

"So Sten is your title, not your name?" Elissa continued, raising an eyebrow at him.

"It is my title **and** my name, it is what and who I am." Sten explained, his violet eyes steadily locked to Elissa's green ones. "Much as you are no longer a spoiled child of nobility. You are now the Warden."

"I am **a** Warden." Elissa corrected.

"You are the **only** Warden that matters." Sten insisted, shaking his head. "I do not understand why you refuse to acknowledge what you are though we have all told you as much. The Chantry woman may be a harpy, but she is right – you are special, kadan. There is only one who matters in all of this – and it is you."

Elissa was overwhelmed by his words. To hear such things from the others was one thing, but to be on the receiving end of such reverence from a qunari was another entirely. She wasn't sure how to react.

"We've been days in this place and there is no sign of any threat," one of the soldiers piped up, interrupting their conversation. "The Arishok's report was wrong. Can we not go home?"

"No." Sten replied, not even looking at them – knowing that they would sigh and huff about no matter what he said to them – he was reliving a memory just as she had.

"We need to go." Elissa said, her words setting the qunari to motion – she took his hands allowing him to pull her up with him. "We have a demon waiting for us."

"Let it wait." Sten answered, turning toward the soldiers. "This is a dream, I am not a fool. I remember seeing the Karashok there have his head torn off." Elissa grimaced, suddenly understanding that in this moment Sten was able to see his friends again – friends who were now dead and gone. "It is a dream… but a good one."

"This is a cage, Sten." Elissa said, laying a gentle hand on the thick trunk of his forearm – her skin even more pale against the grey of his own. "Just like Lothering."

"Here, Lothering, Orlais…" the qunari answered, a low but humorless chuckle rumbling in his chest. "It's all the same, far from home. No place is better than any other."

"Was it not you who told me that the Soldiers of the Beresaad did not waste time dreaming?" Elissa said, changing tactics as she remembered a conversation they had one morning when Sten had been forced to wake her from her late sleeping.

"They don't." Sten replied, and Elissa could see a slight smile on his face that she had remembered what they spoke of. "But I am no longer one of the Beresaad. I am no one."

"That is **not** true!" Elissa insisted, tugging at him to force his eyes to her own. "You are a warrior and you are my friend! I cannot do this without you, and if you stay here then all of this – your friend's deaths, our struggles… everything will have been for nothing."

"For once, I completely agree with you, Warden." Sten chuckled, nodding his head in a slight bow. "I owe them a victory, I owe **you** a victory."

"What's this? You're leaving us?" one of the soldiers said, the two suddenly very attentive. "You can't abandon your post."

"Stand aside." Sten warned, pulling loose his broadsword, noting that Elissa released her blades as well. "I would hate to see you die again."

"No!" the other soldier yelled, the two pulling loose their own weapons and rushing forward. "We won't let you leave us!"

Elissa and Sten cut down the demons easily, and though his face seemed serene – Elissa knew that giving death to his friends again had hurt Sten just as much as killing Nathaniel had hurt her.

"This gives me no peace." Sten said, hanging his head – Elissa moved toward him before the flames that she had seen envelop Morrigan started to take over his body as well. "No! More trickery? What is happening?"

He held his arms out to Elissa, but she did not try to reach for him. She knew he would disappear regardless, and so she sheathed her blades and returned to the pedestal to travel to the next island.

* * *

><p>Wynne and Leliana both proved difficult to extract from their illusions.<p>

Wynne was convinced that Elissa had abandoned her and the remaining mages to their fate, and yelled at her in accusation from where she had stood among a field of corpses. It had taken every trick of persuasion that Elissa could muster to even get the elder mage to consider that what she saw around her was an illusion – and was only when one of the "corpses" chose to rise and speak that the woman was truly willing to accept that what she said had been true all along.

Leliana had returned to her life in the Lothering Chantry, praying on bended knee at the feet of a demon cloaked in the guise of the Revered Mother. The irony was not lost on Elissa, who had given into her disgust with organized religion and hurled insults at the demon and the bard before realizing her sharp tongue was getting her nowhere.

After a great deal of time undoing the damage of her words, Elissa finally managed to convince Leliana that she was there to help and that the "mother" was in fact – a demon. By the end of the fight with the demon, the bard looked broken and completely distraught – and Elissa felt her ire softening. As she vanished Elissa knew she had learned much during her trip to the Fade that made her respect each of her companions all the more.

* * *

><p>She had known the last island would hold Alistair's nightmare even before she traveled to it, and found herself unsettled by the idea of encountering him. Her dream of Nathaniel had left her shaken, it had stirred emotions within her she'd thought buried, and she felt overwhelming guilt at the thought of seeing her fellow Warden again after cavorting with another "man".<p>

She also felt apprehensive about finding Alistair in a similar situation… the idea of him being trapped by another woman, or by some horrible facsimile of herself, was unappealing to say the least.

As she came down the hill, her fears became reality, for indeed Alistair stood there with another woman – looking completely at peace. She was beautiful, Elissa realized as she approached, though there was something oddly familiar about her features.

"Hey! You've finally come!" Alistair said, his face lighting even more when he saw her – and she tried not to cringe as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek affectionately. "I was just thinking about you… isn't that a marvelous coincidence," he continued, beckoning to the other woman. "This is my sister, Goldanna. Her children are here somewhere, and now that you've come – we're one happy family at last!"

"We have to get away from them, Alistair." Elissa insisted, keeping her voice a gentle whisper as she tugged at his hands – she remembered him speaking of his lost sibling before and them making a plan to seek her out whenever they reached Denerim. "This is a trick."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his smile already beginning to fade away – breaking Elissa's heart.

"Alistair, is your lovely fiancé staying for dinner?" Goldanna said, beaming at them.

"F-fiance?" Elissa stuttered, her eyes wide that Alistair was already thinking such things about her.

"Say you'll stay, my love! Goldanna's a great cook!" Alistair said, the smile returning as he gripped Elissa's hands and pulled her into his arms. "Maybe she'll make her mince pie? You can, can't you?"

"Of course, dear brother." Goldanna chuckled, turning back to her cooking. "Anything for you and your beautiful bride to be."

"We can't stay here Alistair." Elissa tried again, pulling out of his embrace – overwhelmed now by the feelings of guilt over what had happened with the Nathaniel demon.

"You're acting really strange…" Alistair said, reaching up to check for fever – his hands gentle and warm on her skin. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Think about this, think about how you got here." Elissa insisted, pulling away and taking his hands in her own. "Think carefully."

"All right, love – if it makes you happy," he said with a smile, kissing her hand. "I… it's a little fuzzy… well that's odd…"

"Alistair, come have some tea." Goldanna said, and Elissa could see her guise slipping – the kindness in her face being replaced by anger as she glared at the other woman.

"No… wait… I remember a… tower." Alistair said, rubbing at his brow as he struggled to push through the fog of illusion. "The Circle… it was under attack… there were demons. That's all I really remember."

"The sloth demon… do you remember that?" Elissa encouraged, holding his amber eyes steadily.

"Are you saying this is a-a d-dream?" Alistair asked, his eyes impossibly wide. "But it's so real…"

"Of course it's real!" Goldanna insisted angrily, tugging at his arm and trying to drag him back into the illusion. "Now wash up before supper and I…"

"Something doesn't feel quite right here…" Alistair said, looking at the illusion of his sister. "I… I-I think I have to go…"

"Come with me then." Elissa said, reaching out her hand and pulling him forcibly behind her as she tugged loose her blades.

"No! He is ours!" Goldanna screeched, her face twisting in anger. "I'd rather see him dead than free!"

"I'll not let you have him, demon bitch." Elissa yelled, throwing herself at the woman and cutting her apart easily.

When she turned back to Alistair, he looked equal parts heartbroken and embarrassed.

"I can't believe it… how did I not see this earlier?" he said, his words broken and heavy with sadness.

"The demons do something to our minds." Elissa whispered gently, moving forward and touching his face in comfort. "They tap into our memories and manipulate them to keep us here."

"Please don't tell anyone how easily I was fooled… a-and about the whole **fiancé** thing…" he started, his face coloring heavily.

"Don't worry about it, Alistair," she smiled.

"Are we going now?" he asked, and Elissa backed away as the flames took over his body. "Wait, where are you going? What's happening to me, Elissa? Hey!"

And then he too was gone.

* * *

><p>"Did you do it? Did you save them?" Niall asked when she returned to the Raw Fade.<p>

"I think so, I killed the demons that held them but then they disappeared…" Elissa answered. "I've no idea where they've gone. I can only hope that killing the demons has sent them back to the real world somehow."

"Something is changing here, I can feel it. The barriers between us and sloth have grown thin. The pieces are falling into place," he explained, watching as Elissa searched the area for the door that would lead her to the final demon standing between her and sloth.

"I can see the door, I need to go." Elissa said, squeezing his hands and jogging away – shifting into spirit form and gliding through the barrier door that led to the final obstacle.

The demoness was arrogant, but hardly a match for Elissa's many forms, and as she fell Elissa could feel the balance of power shifting.

She was ready to face sloth, and knew she would not fail.

* * *

><p>"What do we have here? A rebellious minion… an escaped slave?" sloth laughed, his languid words unable to lull her senses as they had before. "My, my but you do have some gall… now playtime is over, you and your friends have to go back to your pretty cages."<p>

Elissa looked at him in confusion, before she noticed her companions beginning to take shape all around her. She smiled at them, knowing that now the demon stood no chance against them.

"If you go back quietly, I'll do better this time," sloth said, his dark fingers hovering just over her skin. "I've gotten a much more detailed read of your memories now… I can construct a more… **accurate** version for you… I can make you **much** happier."

"I am perfectly capable of making my own happiness, thank you." Elissa sneered, trying to deny the desire to see Nathaniel again that was surging up inside her – trying to ignore the guilt burning away at her soul when she caught Alistair's amber eyes watching her with a mix of affection and concern.

"Can you?" sloth laughed, tsking at her. "It seems to me you haven't done a very good job of that thus far. I have never encountered a soul so willingly mired in misery. It is a beautiful thing, such suffering."

"You do not know me, demon." Elissa hissed, glaring at it angrily – infuriated by its words but knowing them to be true.

"Then think about someone other than yourself, think about your friends… perhaps they would be happier here," the demon said, turning its attention briefly to her companions – all of whom muttered their own denials. "I'm hurt… so very, **very** hurt."

"That's your problem." Elissa retorted, unsheathing her blades. "I'll do nothing you say."

"You wish to battle me?" the demon laughed, the sound echoing off the flickering landscape of the Fade. "Very well then… you will learn to bow to your betters, mortal!"

The battle waged for some time, sloth shifting through one form after another. By the end Wynne's mana pool had grown shallow and Elissa had been forced to shift into her golem form simply to stay alive.

Finally, Sten managed to strike a critical blow, dropping the sloth demon once and for all. Elissa could feel the tenuous threads that held them there loosening their hold, and one by one her friends flashed out of existence – returning to their bodies back in reality.

There was only one thing left for Elissa to do.

* * *

><p>"You did it!" Niall yelled, sweeping her off her feet with his joy and twirling her around in his arms. "I never thought… I never expected that anyone would come who could defeat the demon – but you've done the impossible. You've killed it and freed yourself, freed us both!"<p>

"I told you I would do it!" Elissa laughed, wrapping her arms around the waist of the mage who had been her anchor through this long and treacherous journey.

"When you return, you must take the Litany of Adralla from my… my… body." Niall said, the warmth of his breath fluttering her hair where he'd laid his face against her head. "It will protect you from the worst of Uldred's blood magic. It is the only protection I can offer you."

"Your body?" Elissa spat, pulling away from him just enough to look up into his face.

"I cannot go with you, Elissa. I've been here far too long." He explained, reaching forward to brush a curl of hair out of her face. "For you, this will have been an afternoon nap. Your body won't have wasted away in the real world while your spirit lay in the hands of a demon."

"You think you're going to die?" she said, her voice quiet in sadness as she reached up to hold his face in her hands.

"Every minute I was here, the sloth demon was feeding off me, using my life force to power the nightmares of this realm." Niall said, releasing her jaw and allowing his hands to fall back to her waist – enjoying the embrace for just a little while longer as such contact was not allowed within the tower. "There is little of me left… I was never meant to save the Circle… or to survive its troubles. My task was to be here long enough to find you, and to act as your guide – to keep you safe while you suffered these trials." He smiled softly at her. "I am dying, Elissa. It's as simple as that."

"You're **not** going to die!" Elissa insisted, pulling his face down to hers until their foreheads were touching – she owed this man so much, she would not let him down. "Wynne is a powerful healer, she will revive you when I return."

"Tenacious to the very end," he chuckled, squeezing at her waist. "But it is too late for me. I do not fear what is to come. They say we return to the Maker in death, and that isn't such a terrible thing." Elissa could feel the tears starting to run down her cheeks, and could do nothing to stop them. "My only regret is that I could not save the Circle, but **you**… you can," he insisted, wiping at her tears with soft fingers. "Take the Litany off my body when you return, it is important!"

"What about you?" she sobbed, not even trying to retain her composure – losing him was just too much on top of an already horrific experience.

"I can rest easily knowing you are there to save us." Niall encouraged, rubbing at her back in comfort and holding her close. "I'm not… a hero. Perhaps trying to be one was foolish."

"You **are** a hero, Niall, just as much as I am." Elissa insisted, pulling back from him and holding his eyes. "You have done great things, you have made this possible. I could never have done this alone."

"Dark times make heroes of us all, eh? You may be right…" he laughed, smiling at her. "Before I was taken to the Circle, my mother said I was meant for greatness… that I would be more than my ancestors ever dreamed. It is nice to know that I didn't disappoint her."

"You didn't," she said, forcing a smile through her tears.

"It is time for both of us to be on our way now, I can feel the bonds that hold me here weakening." Niall explained, stroking at her cheek with his long delicate fingers as though he could memorize the curves of it. "**Remember**, the Litany of Adralla… the Circle is all that matters now," he said, his words starting to sound hollow as his fingers hesitated on her skin. "Thank you and goodbye, my friend," he finished, leaning forward and claiming her lips in a simple chaste kiss before he faded completely away.


	22. Chapter 22:The First Treaty Honored

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** Finishing up the Circle Tower! I always find this portion of the game, including the Fade, to be quite tedious - so I hope that I have managed to make it more bearable within the story :) _

_Thanks to the readers, followers and reviewers. You push me to be better at my craft and it is always appreciated._

_Additional thanks to my Lady Beta **artemiskat**, couldn't do it without your efforts! _

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Twenty-Two: The First Treaty Honored<strong>_

It took some time for Elissa to come back into herself across the boundaries of the Fade, the spectral energy of the dream realm clinging to her mind much like the ghostly whisper of Niall's parting kiss clung to her lips.

It was Morrigan's disgusted cursing and the motion of her companions pulling themselves up out of the corruption that covered the floor which finally forced her to open her eyes to reality.

When she got to a sitting position, her eyes found Niall's body lying crumpled beyond the remains of the sloth demon. As she scurried across the floor on her hands and knees, she allowed herself to hope that he had been wrong… that he had somehow managed to survive against all odds… but it wasn't meant to be to be and her hopes were dashed against the rocks again when she saw his empty eyes.

"Oh, Niall…" she sobbed, unable to hold her emotions at bay any longer, crumbling forward onto his lifeless body. "I'm so, **so** sorry… I was too slow… I took too long… I-I should have been able to save you… I wasn't strong enough…"

"Child, he was gone from this world long before we entered the Fade." Wynne said, sharing a worried look with Alistair. "You could have done nothing to save him."

"H-he wasn't gone… he was **there**, he was my friend and my guide." Elissa insisted, barely managing to shape the words through her broken sobbing and free flowing tears. "I couldn't have done this without him, he can't just be **gone** after everything we went through… it isn't fair!"

"Life is not fair." Wynne began, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder – but Elissa pulled away angrily.

"You think I don't **know** that? That I haven't **seen** enough at this point to understand that nothing about this will **ever** be fair or right?" she spat, clinging to the fallen mage's body as though she could will it back to life again – all but consumed by her anger and hopelessness. "I understand all of that, it doesn't mean I have to like it – it doesn't mean I have to accept it." Around her everyone began to move closer, not knowing what to do in the face of her rage and sorrow – not knowing how to help her. "Just leave me be!"

Alistair started to move forward, but Sten stopped him, merely shaking his head in stern silence when Alistair began to argue.

"Give her time to grieve, Alistair." Leliana said softly. "Whatever we experienced in the Fade, she experienced far beyond that… do not forget, she bested her own demons and ours – whatever happened to her there has affected her profoundly. She needs time to mourn for what she has lost."

* * *

><p>The group was forced to pause, standing far enough away to give Elissa some small modicum of privacy while she gave herself over to her sorrow – mourning for Niall, and for Nathaniel.<p>

Sten planted himself steadfastly in between Elissa and the others, refusing to allow anyone to approach her until she returned to herself as he knew that she would.

After almost an hour, Elissa was finally spent – wiping at her face as she sat and dug in the mage's pockets – retrieving a small scroll and touching his face gently one more time before standing.

She met Sten's eyes – and when he was satisfied with what he saw, he stepped aside and allowed her to rejoin the rest of the group.

"I don't have time to speak of this now, Alistair." Elissa said, halting him with a wave of her hand before he could even begin to voice the concern she saw written all over his face. "Suffice it to say that I am composed again and ready to be done with this place. Let us waste no more time."

With that she shoved Niall's scroll into her pack and pulled free her swords, moving further into the tower.

Elissa's sorrow was soon redirected into rage, a rage that propelled her forward slicing through the abominations, demons and even a handful of dragonlings that stood between them and Uldred in a frenzy that Alistair had not seen since the night of their battle in Redcliffe.

As they approached the door to the last room standing between them and the Harrowing Chamber where Wynne believed Uldred was most likely to be making his stand – the elder mage pulled Alistair to the side in concern.

"I think we may be forced to consider the possibility that Elissa has been… possessed… by something while in the Fade." Wynne whispered, making certain that she was not overheard by the other Warden – after seeing what she was capable of, the mage did not wish to see that fury turned in her direction.

"She's not possessed." Alistair assured her, rubbing at the back of his neck and sighing as he tried to find a way to explain without explaining. "It's… complicated, but I promise you – there's no demon." Wynne continued to look at him suspiciously. "I cannot tell you any more than that right now – it's a long story and not even mine to offer… but I promise, if we make it out of here - you will have your explanation - even if it has to come from me."

Inside the entry room to the Harrowing Chamber they found a single Templar locked in some sort of barrier. He rocked back and forth on his knees, mumbling broken prayers to the Maker. Elissa sheathed her weapons and approached him carefully, unsure what to expect.

"This trick again? I know what you are, demon!" the Templar hissed, glaring at her furiously. "It won't work. I will remain strong…"

"Demon?" Elissa questioned, turning her eyes to Morrigan.

"He believes you are a desire demon sent here to tempt him," the witch chuckled watching Elissa mouth "ah!" in response before turning back to the man.

"The boy is exhausted… and this cage… I've never seen anything like it." Wynne offered, stepping forward with Morrigan to inspect the barrier that held him. "Rest easy, Cullen, help is here."

"Enough visions!" the Templar yelled, holding his ears then looking again to Elissa. "If anything in you is human, kill me now and stop this game! You broke the others, but I will stay strong… for my sake, for theirs!" he insisted, pressing his eyes shut and dropping his voice to a lower register. "Filthy blood mages… getting in my head… I will not break… I'd rather die."

"You're not going to die." Elissa said, trying to reassure him with her soothing voice. "Not if I can help it."

"Silence! I'll not listen to anything you say! Begone!" Cullen yelled, opening his eyes to glare at her then shutting them again… when he opened them once more, he seemed both surprised and upset that she remained there. "Still here? But that's always worked before… I close my eyes, but you are still here when I open them…"

"I'm **real**, Cullen." Elissa said patiently. "I'm here to help you."

"Don't blame me for being cautious!" he snapped at her. "The voices… the images… so real… Did Greagoir send you? How… h-how did you get here?"

"I'm a Grey Warden. The Knight-Commander allowed myself and my companions access to try and save the tower." Elissa explained, watching as the Templar looked over her company.

"Good. Kill Uldred… kill them **all** for what they've done." the Templar hissed angrily, his eyes narrowing to slits. "They caged us like animals… looked for ways to break us… I'm the only one left…"

"Be proud, you mastered yourself." Sten said, his respect for such strength clearly evident in his words.

"Be proud? What is there to be proud of? That I lived and they died?" Cullen laughed, the sound broken and harsh. "They turned some into… m-monsters… and there was nothing I could do."

"Uldred **will** pay for what he's done." Elissa said, her own voice low and dangerous as she remembered what had happened to Niall. "You have my word."

"To think, I once felt pity for the Circle." Cullen spat, glaring at Wynne and Morrigan before turning his attention back to Elissa. "Now I'd like nothing more than to wipe their taint off the face of Thedas."

"Not all mages are evil, Cullen." Elissa said, evening her voice into kind neutrality once again. "I have met many who are worthy of respect, including those I travel with now."

"Only mages have **that** much power at their fingertips!" the Templar insisted, raising his voice in anger. "Only mages are so susceptible to the infernal whisperings of demons!"

"This is a discussion for another time!" Wynne yelled, ending the discussion before Elissa could continue to further press her opinion on the fragile Templar. "Irving and the other mages who fought Uldred, where are they?"

"They are in the Harrowing Chamber." Cullen replied, glancing to the elder mage for only a moment before his face fell again in terror and despair. "The sounds coming from there… oh Maker…"

"We must hurry!" Wynne insisted, turning to Elissa. "They are in grave danger, I know it!"

"You can't save them!" Cullen insisted, frantically pulling at Elissa's attention when he saw her nod her approval to the mage. "You don't know what they've become!"

"We can't just kill them all without…" Elissa began, holding up a hand.

"They've been surrounded by b-blood mages!" the Templar insisted, pulling at his own hair. "Their wicked fingers snake into your mind and corrupt your thoughts."

"His hatred of mages is so intense…" Alistair said, and the look on his face was pure sadness when Elissa glanced at him. "The memory of his friends' deaths is too fresh in his mind to allow him to think logically."

"You have to **end** it… end them all… now, before it is too late!" Cullen insisted.

"I will not kill an innocent." Elissa insisted, her words stern and immovable.

"Are you really saving anyone by taking this risk?" Cullen continued, his anger visibly shaking him. "The only way to ensure this horror is ended… to guarantee that no abominations or blood mages live… is to kill everything up there!"

"I cannot make such a decision without seeing what is going on." Elissa answered, not swayed from her path. "If I must cleanse the tower, then I will do so, but not until I am absolutely certain that is the only solution."

"That is your choice to make, but I beg you to at least consider what I have to say," the Templar pleaded. "You cannot tell maleficarium by sight, and just one could influence the mind of a king… of a Grand Cleric."

"I do not fear maleficarium." Elissa said haughtily, raising her chin in challenge. "Like all else, **they** should fear **me**."

"You may be confident in your ability to stand up to them, but what about the rest of us?" Cullen asked, looking around to her companions. "Will you protect us from them?"

"If it comes to that, absolutely," she answered, "but I cannot be sure they are all blood mages, not without seeing it with my own eyes."

"It seems only I am willing to see the painful truth that you seem content to ignore," he spat in disgust. "But what can I do?"

"What he says makes sense." Sten asserted, moving forward slightly to catch Elissa's attention. "Do not dismiss it out of hand… these mages are out of control."

"It isn't that simple, Sten." Elissa replied, shaking her head sadly and willing him to understand. "I will not allow monsters out into the world, but neither can I take innocent lives just because they **might** be tainted… I made a promise to someone… a promise I intend to keep."

"As you wish, kadan." Sten said, reading something in her eyes that swayed him from his course.

"As you can see, I am in no position to directly influence your actions." Cullen hissed, realizing that his advice was going to be completely disregarded. "Though I would love to deal with the mages myself." He crossed his arms and turned away from them. "Go then, deal with Uldred… I only hope your compassion hasn't doomed us all."

* * *

><p>As they made their way up the stairs to the Harrowing Chamber, they could hear the sounds that Cullen had spoken of. Horrific screams and the juicy pop of rending flesh echoed off the stone walls.<p>

When they breached the doors, they were floored by what they saw. Abominations lumbered about in a room covered with the corrupted fleshy growths that had grown in frequency as they moved up the tower. A bald man paced in the center of the room, forcibly sending demons into the few remaining mages' bodies and watching as their flesh twisted and ripped apart as they transformed into monsters.

Alistair gagged, and turned away as Uldred forced his magic into his latest victim.

Wynne pointed out that Irving still lived and that time was short.

"Ah, look what we have here… intruders…" Uldred laughed, shaking out his fingers. "I bid you welcome… care to join in our… revels?"

"I think I'll just kill you, if that's alright." Elissa spat, pulling loose her swords and twirling them confidently in her fingers.

She had nothing to say to the man, and there were no words that anyone else could speak that would keep her from taking his life.

"Fight if you must…" Uldred sighed, beginning to channel a transformation spell. "It will just make my victory all the sweeter."

Elissa sent Leliana over to stand with Irving and the remaining survivors, instructing her that she should focus on reciting the Litany from the scroll Elissa had given her as they climbed the stairs.

"Nothing else matters." Elissa yelled over the noise of the others who had already begun to cut down the abominations. "Keep Irving safe, if he falls – none of us will leave this tower alive."

As the last words left her mouth, Elissa stumbled back – covering her face as an intense light blasted out of the center of the room where Uldred had been standing. When her vision cleared and the light faded, what stood there was like nothing she had ever seen before.

"Pride demon!" Morrigan yelled, setting fire to a nearby abomination, "Watch the claws!"

"Come little girl…" the thing hissed. "I have little time to waste on such triviality."

"You have little time left in this world at all, demon." Elissa hissed, hurling herself headfirst into the monster and screaming like a banshee.

It was a long and brutal fight, Elissa narrowly avoiding mortal wounds at the end of its wicked claws on several occasions. Both Sten and Alistair fell, wounded by powerful blows that had to be healed by Wynne's magic before they could rejoin the battle. Morrigan eventually stopped all offensive magic and focused purely on any additional healing she could contribute just to keep them all going.

It took the combined focus of Alistair, Sten and Elissa to finally bring Uldred down, and it was not missed by anyone just how much pleasure Elissa took from relieving the troublesome mage's demon body of its pointy little head.

* * *

><p>With a sigh of relief, Elissa turned to see that though the other mages had died with Uldred, Leliana's focused efforts had kept Irving alive.<p>

"Maker, I'm too old for this…" Irving muttered as Leliana helped him to stand.

"Irving! Are you alright?" Wynne asked, moving closer and inspecting him for damage.

"I've… ugh… been better. But I am thankful to be alive." Irving chuckled. "I suppose that is your doing, isn't it, Wynne?"

"I wasn't alone, I had help." Wynne laughed, motioning to the group of people around her.

"So I see." Irving acknowledged, smiling. "The Circle owes all of you a debt we will never be able to repay. Come, the Templars await. We shall let them know the tower is once again safe."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea." Elissa said, allowing a smile of her own as she sheathed her blades.

"I'll need you to help me down the stairs I'm afraid." Irving said, stumbling for a moment in his exhaustion before Elissa draped his arm across her shoulder and bore most of his weight on her back. "Curse whoever insisted the Circle be housed in a tower…"

Elissa's laughter rang out like a bell as they descended the stairs when his words mimicked her own sentiments upon entering the place.

At Irving's command, the Templars opened the doors – and the smile of relief that crossed Greagoir's face when he saw the First Enchanter spoke volumes of the respect between the unlikely friends.

"Irving! Maker's breath, I did not expect to see you alive!" Greagoir said, reaching forward to grasp the man's hand in a gentle handshake.

"It is over, Greagoir." Irving assured him. "Uldred… is dead."

"Uldred tortured the First Enchanter, hoping to break him and turn him into an abomination," the broken Templar Elissa remembered as Cullen yelled, rushing forward and inserting himself into the conversation. "We can't be certain that he wasn't turned."

"What? Don't be ridiculous!" Irving gasped, looking at Greagoir in horror.

"Of **course** you'd say that!" Cullen continued, glaring at the man. "He might be a blood mage, Knight-Commander! There is no way of knowing what they did. I will not allow this to happen again."

"I am the Knight-Commander here, Cullen, not you." Greagoir replied, his voice stern but nonthreatening.

"Well, what does the Knight-Commander think?" Elissa asked, crossing her arms and inspecting the man – knowing she would have to intervene should he side with Cullen and hoping, for once, things would resolve themselves without violence. "You said that you would take the word of the First Enchanter and the First Enchanter only that the tower was yours once again – and I have brought him to you just as you asked."

"You have indeed." Greagoir answered, smiling at her in pride. "I will take Irving's word that all is well and the tower is once again under our control."

"But he may have a demon inside him!" Cullen insisted, glaring at Elissa for intervening once again. "Laying dormant… laying in wait!"

"Enough! I have made my decision." Greagoir said, dismissing the Templar - who stomped away in fury - then turning back to Elissa. "I thank you, my Lady. You have proven yourself a friend to both the Circle and the Templars and a worthy ally to be had for certain."

"While I do appreciate the compliment, as well as the respect for it was most certainly hard earned… I believe we had an agreement – and I have seen to my end of that bargain." Elissa said, raising an eyebrow.

"I promised you aid… but with the Circle restored, my duty is to watch the mages." Greagoir hedged, refusing to meet her eyes. "They are now free to help you. I suggest you speak to Irving. He certainly owes you a debt of gratitude."

Elissa nodded and moved to speak to the First Enchanter, somewhat relieved that she was being given permission to seek the aid of the mages rather than the Templars, though she tried not to show it.

"I am glad you arrived when you did, young lady." Irving said, smiling kindly at her as she approached. "It is almost as though the Maker himself sent you."

"Yes… I get that a lot…" Elissa muttered, shrugging her shoulders noncommittally. "But, it was all a matter of convenient timing I'm afraid. The Blight has driven me here to seek aid."

"Then the least we can do is offer you our help against the darkspawn in light of all that you have done for us here… both the Circle and the Templars could have been annihilated had you not intervened on our behalf." Irving said, continuing to beam his approval. "I would hate to have survived this only to succumb to the Blight."

"Then we have an accord?" Elissa asked, surprised that it had taken so little to secure his word in the end.

"You have my word as First Enchanter." Irving said, reaching out to shake her hand. "The Circle will join with the Grey Wardens in this fight. I will send a representative to the location of your choice to act as a liaison between us as we prepare."

Elissa provided the First Enchanter with directions to Soldier's Peak, after getting his word that he would speak to no one that they had reclaimed it.

"Irving, I have a request to make of you." Wynne said, bowing respectfully before continuing. "I would like permission to take my leave and follow the Grey Wardens."

"Wynne… we need you here, the Circle needs you." Irving insisted, sighing as he looked at her.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Irving, but the Circle will do fine without me – the Circle has you," the elder mage chuckled. "This woman is brave, and good, and capable of great things – but she will need help along the way. If she will accept it, I would like to offer my support to her cause."

"I would be honored to have you in my company, Wynne." Elissa smiled, the woman's nature - both the abrasive and gentle sides of it - reminded her of her own mother and Elissa found herself comforted by the idea of having her along.

"You were never one to stay in the tower when there was adventure to be had elsewhere." Irving smiled.

"Why stay when I can do more for the greater good elsewhere?" Wynne said simply.

"Then I can do no more than to give you leave to follow her." Irving said, looking on both of them with kindness.

"I have one more thing to ask of you, First Enchanter." Elissa said respectfully. "There is a problem in Redcliffe Castle. The Arl's son has shown signs of possession. I was hoping I could request a few mages to attempt to save him."

"You intend to enter the Fade?" Irving smiled, surprised at her ingenuity. "It can be done with a few mages. I will gather the ones that can travel and leave as soon as possible, though it will likely be tomorrow before we can muster the strength."

* * *

><p>When Irving told her that it would take him a day to organize and travel with the mages, Elissa had been relieved. She was drained body and soul by her time in the Fade and wanted nothing more than to take a long bath and sleep in a soft bed before she had to face the nightmare that awaited them in Redcliffe.<p>

She reserved the necessary rooms and ordered enough food and drink to fill everyone's belly, watching as her company separated to dwell in their own thoughts.

Elissa pulled a couple of items from her pack, moving first to Leliana, and sitting across from her at the table – watching the bard look up in surprise that she had chosen that table to sit at.

"I picked these outside of Redcliffe." Elissa said, holding a long stem covered in delicate white flowers over to the other woman.

"Flowers? For me?" Leliana questioned, looking to Elissa in confusion – the Warden had seldom been nice to her, usually annoyed with most everything that came out of her mouth.

"I think it's Andraste's Grace." Elissa explained, munching on a crust of bread as she watched recognition cross the bard's face. "I remember you speaking of it some time ago with a great deal of fondness."

"These… these were my mother's flowers…" Leliana nodded, a few tears flooding her eyes. "She would sprinkle the dried petals among her clothes… they smell just like her," she reached across the table and grasped the other woman's hand. "Thank you, Elissa… I know we don't…"

"I know…" Elissa interrupted, squeezing her hand gently. "I have been unfair, Leliana. While our... principles... may differ, at the core our hearts wish for the same goals. I will try harder."

With that Elissa excused herself, watching as the bard turned the flower over and over in her hand sniffing at the blooms and smiling. She pulled her other gift, forward, tossing it down with a slap on the wood where Morrigan sat and planted herself in the other chair.

"What is this? Wait… you found Flemeth's grimoire?" Morrigan gasped, her eyes going wide as she looked at Elissa then reached forward to thumb eagerly through its pages. "When we discovered the condition of the mage's tower… I had wondered if it might be recoverable… but I had yet to speak of it to you…" the witch explained, her brow furrowing as she recalled why she hadn't been speaking to the other woman. "'Tis fortunate you found it on your own. I will begin study of it immediately."

"What is it you hope to find?" Elissa asked, knowing that was as close to a thank you as she was likely to get given the current troubles between them.

"Secrets… as you might have noticed, my mother has many of them. This tome represents the one time that they were able to get away from her." Morrigan answered, patting reverently at the pages. "I do not intend to squander this opportunity to learn more than Flemeth wished for me to know."

"Morrigan… I do not like having this… **tension** between us." Elissa pressed, knowing that the witch clearly wished to speak no more, but refusing to let the issue lie.

"Nor do I." Morrigan admitted, not lifting her eyes from her perusal of the pages. "But, I **also** do not like that you waste yourself on the Templar when he is so obviously beneath you. Surely you can see that."

"I don't expect you to like him, any more than I expect him to like you." Elissa said, sighing heavily as she glanced over to see Alistair watching them anxiously. "But I… I cannot deny I have feelings for him, Morrigan. He is a good man and he cares for me. I grow exhausted of bearing this burden alone."

"You do not bear it alone. I am here." Morrigan insisted angrily, finally raising her eyes.

"I know, and I appreciate it more than you probably know… but there are… **comforts** that Alistair can provide me that… you and I cannot share…" Elissa said, dancing around what she was trying to say and hoping that she did not somehow make things worse with the moody mage.

"If it is physical release that you seek, there are others willing to provide it to you." Morrigan insisted, glancing over to the bard's table. "The Chantry-woman fancies you, and though she is grating at times – she is better than the Templar."

"**Wow**… um… well…" she cleared her throat, choking a bit on the mouthful of food she had been chewing, "Leliana is quite beautiful, but not exactly my type…" Elissa chuckled, blushing under Morrigan's scrutiny.

"You require a penis then?" Morrigan asked, her brow knitting in confusion.

"**What?** No… no, I…" Elissa fumbled for words, blushing furiously now. "I have no specific requirements of male over female… it is more that Leliana and I specifically do not mix well. We have very different outlooks on life that would hinder such a connection from taking root."

"So you **share** the Templar's narrow world view?" Morrigan grumbled, eyes narrowing.

"I **do** wish you'd call him by his name…" Elissa sighed, rubbing at her brow. "And no, I suppose I don't always share Alistair's view of the world either… I just… it's hard to explain, and I have no idea if it will even go any further than it has… which is nowhere by the way," she offered, catching the witch's eye and noticing a bit of relief in her face. "I just… I need to know that I will not lose you if I decide to see where things **do** go."

"I will not give you my approval." Morrigan replied, dropping her eyes back to the inspection of Flemeth's grimoire. "But neither will I interfere. You will not lose me no matter the choice."

"Thank you, Morrigan." Elissa replied, knowing that was all she would get.

* * *

><p>She pushed her food around for a few more moments before realizing her appetite was gone. With that she rose and went to draw herself a bath, allowing her worries to drift away in the water.<p>

When she returned from the bathing chamber, she was surprised to find Alistair curled up in her bed thumbing through the pages of some book Sten had given him – until she remembered she had forgotten to get an extra room for Wynne, leaving their company one room short.

"I-I assumed since you didn't get enough rooms you intended that I stay with you…" Alistair stuttered, closing the book and throwing his legs over the edge of her bed when he caught the look that had briefly crossed her features. "I can go, maybe stay with Sten, if you'd rather I…"

"No, no… it's fine." Elissa replied, carrying the bundle of armor and weapons over and depositing them in the floor between the weapon and armor racks.

Alistair had been forced to put his own armor on the floor as well, as Elissa had claimed the armor stand with the new Dwarven Chainmail she had acquired for herself during their time in the Circle tower.

Elissa blew out the candles, and climbed into the bed – snuggling into the space Alistair provided her, trying to ignore the guilt that still ate away inside her from her vision in the tower.

"Is everything alright?" Alistair asked, feeling the tension that still held her stiff beside him. "You've been off ever since the Fade…"

"It was very traumatic." Elissa admitted, shivering as she remembered it again.

"Yes, the whole thing with Goldanna was… unsettling…" Alistair said, shaking a bit himself. "What about you? What did you see? Did they use your parents?"

"No… it was worse actually." Elissa admitted, sadly acknowledging that she would have preferred the demons to choose the form of her dead parents over that of her lost love.

"They used **him**, didn't they?" Alistair asked, his words soft and hesitant as the reason for her distance suddenly became clear to him.

"Y-yes," she replied, reaching up to pull the ring through the gap in her shirt and stroke the cool metal with her fingers.

"I see…" he said, his words sounded defeated.

"Alistair, I need to tell you something." Elissa said, pulling herself into a sitting position and meeting his eyes – trying to ignore the hurt she saw there and knowing she would only add to it. "And, much like your parentage, it's something I should have told you a long time ago…I just… I didn't want to speak of it."

"Just say it." Alistair said, pulling himself fully upright and gazing at her in the moonlight.

"The name I whisper in my dreams, the man I thought I heard in Lothering, and the image the demons used to hold me in the Fade are all one in the same," she began, wrapping her hand around his ring. "His name was Nathaniel, and he was my first love."

"The ring you wear on that cord, it was his I assume?" Alistair asked, nodding to her hand.

"Yes, he gave it to me when his father sent him away to the Free Marches… we were to marry when he returned." Elissa explained, watching his face flinch at her words. "But he never did, he… he broke my heart."

"I understand that you wouldn't want to speak of this, heartache is not… easy to manage…" he said, his words stilted and simmering with the hurt and anger of his own. "But, why hide this from me? I… I don't understand. I wouldn't have faulted you for having once loved another."

"It is painful… and not something I like to speak about… but, you're right... that is not why I kept it from you, from everyone…" she said, pulling the cord that held his signet off of her neck and handing it to Alistair so that he could inspect it. "Nathaniel's father was… Arl Rendon Howe…"

"What?" Alistair spat, glaring at her and clasping the ring inside his fist. "You were engaged to the son of the man who slaughtered your **entire** family? Who attempted to slaughter you, both of us?"

"Yes, the Howes were always close friends to the Couslands… Nathaniel and I grew up together and eventually… fell in love…" Elissa explained, knowing she deserved all the vitriol Alistair was pouring onto her.

"It never occurred to you that he could be a **part **of this?" he asked, seething in rage, "That he could be out there, somewhere, trying to help his father finish the job?"

"No, Nathaniel is nothing like his father…" she insisted, shaking her head. "Rendon sent him away so that he couldn't interfere with his plans. He found happiness and freedom there that I couldn't give him… and I would not deny him that. He broke my heart, but he had no part of what is happening here… I am sure of it."

"You… y-you love him still!" Alistair said, and Elissa could see the hurt in his face, hear it in his voice.

"Yes." Elissa admitted, her face falling.

"I-I need to go…" Alistair said, tossing the ring back at her and scrambling out of the bed.

"No, **please**… please stay… let me finish!" she pleaded, grabbing onto his hand and holding it tightly between her own.

"What could you **possibly** say to convince me to stay here?" he spat, hurt and anger pushing him close to tears. "I was a fool to think that I ever had a chance with you."

"That's not true… that's not true at all!" Elissa insisted, pulling him close enough that she could rise on her knees and wrap her arms around him. "I cannot lie to you, a part of my heart belongs to Nathaniel… a part of it always will…"

"You are making this **worse**!" Alistair yelled, his voice breaking as he tried to pull away from her.

"He was my first love, Alistair – that is a powerful thing, and it is never forgotten," she tried to explain, her arms holding tightly to him as she pushed to her feet – the extra height the bed gave her allowing her to look down at him tenderly. "There was a time when I thought I would never love again… that I would be broken forever… but that changed, when I met you…" He met her eyes then, and she saw his features relax when he read her words to be true. "I think we could make this work, Alistair… I think I could, love you… if you give me the chance."

"You **could** love me?" he asked, wanting to believe but hesitating…

"No, that's not right… I **do** love you, Alistair… I don't know when or how it happened, but I can't deny that it did." Elissa admitted, laying her hands on his face and tilting her chin up to him. "I will not tell you that this will be easy… I am… damaged and do not profess to be easy to love, so if you choose to walk away now – I will understand."

"You think that I could walk away from you after hearing you say you love me?" Alistair laughed, his amber eyes twinkling again as he wrapped his arms fully around her. "I doubt I could have actually managed to walk away before, but I certainly can't do it now."

"Good, so we can go to bed now? I'm exhausted…" she laughed, sliding down his body and falling back against the bed, waiting for him to crawl past her and then curling in beside him.

"I love you, Elissa," he said, kissing her hair as she drifted to sleep.


	23. Chapter 23: From the Journal of Nathanie

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale._

_**A/N:** Short one, I know! Next one will make up for that hopefully!_

_Thanks as usual to all who read, follow, and review - and to my beta lady who had an easy job this time for once! :) _

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Twenty-Three: From the Journal of Nathaniel Howe<strong>_

Elissa,

_I find myself traveling in strange company these days – an unlikely partnership to say the least. Somehow in my avoidance of the most direct route to Denerim I crossed paths with an elvish assassin. His markings label him as an Antivan Crow, and though he has not admitted it or named his target, I believe he has been sent by my father in search of the remaining Wardens._

_I find myself torn. On one hand my father could be right, the Wardens could be stirring unrest within Ferelden and seeking to hand our lands back over to the Orlesians – in which case I should aid this man in his quest._

_On the other hand, it seems equally likely at this point that my father and Teyrn Loghain could be working to take the throne and these Wardens are the only people who could stop them – in which case I should do everything I can to send the assassin in the wrong direction. _

_As usual, Lissa, it is your words that choose my course. Your stories of the Wardens, your insistence of their heroism and honor… I also know that a Blight is coming, and that without them Ferelden stands no chance at survival. _

_And so, I misdirect and mislead. I offer information that sends the assassin in the opposite direction of where I last heard rumor the Wardens had been traveling. I cannot bring myself to take his life – he is a pawn in this game as much as I am._

_Now I must hope that should he find them in spite of my efforts, they are skilled enough to avoid his intent._

_I miss you, Elissa._


	24. Chapter 24: Return to Redcliffe

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale._

_**A/N: **Muse music for this chapter was Breathe Me by Sia._

_ Thanks to all my readers, followers and reviewers! And to my Lady Beta **artemiskat** :) _

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Twenty-Four: Return to Redcliffe<strong>_

"You know…" Alistair said, watching as Elissa turned to him raising an inquisitive eyebrow as she secured the last of her belongings. "I thought I was going to be sad to see your old armor go, but the way that Dwarven chain fits your body is… well, enough to make me forget to miss the bare skin I could see before…"

"I love it when you flirt," she chuckled, watching the color that took over his face – though, now he did not hide his appreciative inspection of her body as he would have a few days before. "When you blush like that you're positively irresistible."

"Oh… I don't know…" he replied, moving from where he had been leaning against the doorway and winding his arms around her waist from behind. "You seem to be resisting just fine."

"I **have** to resist, or else we will be late again…" Elissa insisted, stifling a low moan as Alistair trailed soft kisses along her neck. "It took quite a bit of effort on my part to get Morrigan over her last tantrum; I'd prefer not to have to diffuse her again so soon."

"Aaaaaand now you've **totally** killed the mood…" Alistair huffed, releasing her so that she could secure everything to her back before they went down to join the others. "Which, I realize, was probably your plan all along."

"Don't worry," she smiled, stretching up to lay a slow kiss on his mouth – poking her tongue out just enough to tickle the edge of his bottom lip. "I'll make it up to you later."

She winked at him over her shoulder as she walked out the door, knowing he would watch the extra sway she put into her hips as she moved off down the hall.

"Maker help me," he sighed, unable to keep the smile off his face as he followed behind her.

* * *

><p>When they reached Redcliffe Castle, the First Enchanter and the mages he had managed to collect for their task had already arrived.<p>

Ser Perth smiled and bowed to Elissa as she passed, pleased to see that she had returned unscathed – and she reached out a hand to pat his armored arm as she walked by, before stopping to speak with Irving who stood apart from the main group gathered in the main hall.

"Ah! There you are!" Irving said with a smile, nodding politely at Wynne as well who smiled in return. "We have brought the lyrium necessary and have already begun preparations for the ritual. We can begin as soon as you are ready."

He gestured to a group of mages near the back of the room who worked steadily with some glowing blue liquid. "Also, I bring word from Greagoir. It seems with the Circle of Magi ready to stand at your side, he has reconsidered his own task. He asked that I bring word to you that the Templars of the Chantry will **also** stand with the Grey Wardens against the Blight."

"You will work… **together**?" Elissa asked, noting that the stunned look on her face was mirrored by all those around her.

"The sincerity of your cause, as well as the willingness you have shown to risk your own life for all of us – regardless of our affiliation, has drawn us together under a common banner." Irving explained, smiling at her. "It is something that would never have happened otherwise."

"I-I don't know how to thank you…" Elissa said, humbled by the offers from both men – she had been wrong to think poorly of Greagoir based on the behavior of the handful of Templars she'd known in her past.

"Save Ferelden from the Blight as you have saved the Circle from itself." Irving encouraged, sharing a look with Wynne. "That is the best thanks any of us could ask for."

"I will do everything I can, you have my word." Elissa assured him, sharing a nod before moving with him over to the small group awaiting their decision. "Will we be able to send more than one person through?"

"No. We have only enough lyrium to send one mage into the Fade, so you will need to choose wisely." Irving warned, looking around the room carefully.

"You said mage, so I'll assume that I cannot go myself." Elissa frowned, taking in a deep breath and considering her options.

"Unfortunately, no – the experience you had with the sloth demon was unnatural," the First Enchanter explained. "Under normal circumstances, only mages can traverse the boundaries of the Veil outside of the dreaming."

"I see… have you any idea what we're up against?" Elissa asked, beginning to pace again – the group giving her space as they had become accustomed to her thinking process.

"It truly depends on the manner of demon; though – this **does** sound like a demon of greed or desire, and that is the more powerful hierarchy." Irving answered, watching Elissa process the information. "It will likely engage whomever you send in some sort of dialog… try to tempt them with an offer. Whomever you send must be strong enough to resist. Deals with demons never turn out well, as you can see."

Elissa paced, thinking carefully about the mages she had to choose from. Petra had mentioned that Wynne had narrowly avoided death inside the tower and it was easy to see the elder mage remained exhausted regardless, so Elissa could not send her. She knew nothing of the mages that Irving had brought along for the ritual and was certain that the First Enchanter would be needed in reality to ensure the ritual went according to plan, which removed them from the running.

This left Elissa to choose between Morrigan and Jowan. Without a doubt, Morrigan was strong enough to both resist and defeat any demon she encountered – but the selfish part of Elissa did not want to risk her friend going where she could not follow, she simply cared **too** much.

She knew she would meet with resistance on all fronts, but her decision was made. She would send Jowan against the demon, and with its demise he would earn the redemption that he sought.

"I have made my decision." Elissa said, coming to stand in front of Irving. "Let's do this now."

"Very well." Irving said with a nod. "Who will go into the Fade?"

"Jowan is going." Elissa replied, crossing her arms and waiting for the inevitable.

"**What**? Me? Are you sure?" Jowan gasped, seeing that Elissa was barely able to hear him over the angry mutters rumbling all around them.

"You want to loose a blood mage into the Fade to meet with a demon?" Irving muttered, appalled at her choice. "What if he takes control of it?"

"This is Jowan's chance to redeem himself." Elissa replied, not moving her gaze away from the shuddering mage before her. "We all deserve a chance at redemption."

"You trust too much and too quickly, young lady – it may very well be your downfall." Irving chastised, moving to join the rest of the mages in the ritual. "But I will do as you ask."

"I-I'll… do my best, I promise." Jowan insisted, not knowing what else he could say.

"No, you won't just do your best… you will succeed, because you have to." Elissa insisted, reaching to grasp the man's hand in what appeared from the outside to be an encouraging handshake though her words were anything but. "And… if you decide to take advantage of my faith in you and treat with that demon know this, I **will** end you – and I will make sure that it is anything but painless. Savvy?"

Jowan was trembling as he made his way to Irving, conscious that Elissa's eyes watched his every move and that she would not hesitate to make good on her threat should he fail to do anything other than save the boy's life.

"I'm sorry… but did you just use pirate speak to threaten that poor man?" Alistair whispered, very nearly giving himself over to laughter despite how wrong that would be at this moment.

"Fergus and I used to play pirate when we were children… got quite good at the idiosyncrasies of the _language_." Elissa chuckled, smiling fondly at the memory of it. "Seemed oddly appropriate somehow."

A few moments later, Jowan was in the Fade – and there was nothing any of them could do but wait.

* * *

><p>Watching Elissa pace furiously around the edges of the room did nothing to calm the nerves of the rest of the group waiting to see how Connor fared, and so eventually she was asked either to sit down and wait patiently with the rest of them, or to take her pacing elsewhere.<p>

Glaring angrily at Isolde who had been at the forefront of the "get Elissa out of this room" movement, she wandered off into the castle until she found herself in what appeared to be Arl Eamon's study.

_If they didn't want me rummaging through their things, they shouldn't have sent me off into the castle alone_, Elissa thought, seating herself in the Arl's chair and flipping through the papers on his desk absently before tugging open the top drawer.

"Jackpot!" she said aloud, reaching in to retrieve the amulet that lay there atop some dusty old tomes and contemplating how much she could get for it at the nearest quartermaster.

She brushed her thumb lightly over the face of it, clearing the dust away to reveal an etching of Andraste's Flame. Though the entire thing was riddled with small cracks, it was still a beautiful piece of jewelry.

_Someone with far more patience than I has glued this back together_, Elissa thought, wondering what had happened to it when suddenly the story Alistair had told her about his mother's amulet suddenly came into her mind.

"Could this be…" she wondered aloud, startled out of her musing by a voice at the door.

"Could this be what?" Alistair said, watching as Elissa hurriedly shut the drawer in Eamon's desk, standing and moving something behind her back, subtly shoving it into the front pocket of her pack.

"I found some old letters to my parents…" Elissa said, it was only a half lie – she **had** found some letters but they hadn't been very interesting, and they hadn't been what she had hidden when Alistair found her.

"Ah… well, I was sent to retrieve you, Jowan has woken…" Alistair explained, his face neutral enough to cause her concern.

"Did he… is Connor?" Elissa asked, rushing forward in her concern.

"He did it, Elissa. Connor is going to be fine," he replied, his face breaking out in a broad smile. "It appears your faith was not misplaced."

"Or my threat was effective," she laughed, hugging him briefly in her relief. "Where did they take him?"

"Connor is resting in his room." Alistair answered, not sure which _him_ she was asking after but seeing that she had no reaction to Connor, he understood she'd meant the mage. "Jowan has been given a room in which to recover, what they will do with him once he does… I do not know. Teagan and Isolde are asking to speak with you. I imagine that will be a part of what they wish to cover."

Elissa sighed, but followed behind him regardless.

* * *

><p>"It is done. Connor is his old self and does not appear to remember anything about his experience, which is a blessing." Teagan said, looking haggard as Elissa came to stand in front of him. "I have spoken with the First Enchanter and made arrangements to send him to the Circle for training once the war is over. It seems that your name now carries a great deal of weight there among mage and Templar alike, so Connor will be well cared for during his stay - which is a comforting thought."<p>

"It's so odd to think of the boy as a mage of all things…" Alistair admitted, sharing a nod of concern with his uncle.

"Eamon will have much to mourn and rebuild, should he recover." Teagan sighed, rubbing at his forehead. "But, he can at least be thankful that his wife and son are safe."

"I owe you and your companions my deepest thanks." Isolde admitted, her brow furrowing with the distaste she felt at having to thank Elissa or Alistair for anything. "I had nearly… I-I can scarcely believe Connor is the boy he once was."

"There is still the matter of Jowan…" Teagan said, and Elissa met his eyes reluctantly – waiting for the argument she knew would come – the one where they insisted he should die for his crimes regardless. "You trusted him regardless of what the rest of us advised you to do, and he saved Connor because of your faith in him. I am unsure what to make of that…" When Elissa offered no response to his commentary, he cleared his throat and forced himself to continue in spite of how uncomfortable she could make him feel with the weight of her emerald eyes inspecting his soul. "We will hold him here so that Eamon can decide his fate. If my brother does not recover… then I would say his fate is sealed… what do you think?"

"You've clearly already decided what you're going to do with him." Elissa snipped, glaring pointedly at Isolde who she was certain to be responsible for most of this _plan_. "I don't see why my opinion should be of any further value to you."

"You have spoken with him at length, Elissa – there must be some reason you chose to place your trust in the man." Teagan sighed, rolling his eyes lightly at Elissa's temperament and remembering now why her father had always referred to her as a _spitfire_. "You know what he's done better than any of us."

"I saw someone who could be of use, given a chance, and someone I felt deserved a chance at earning his own redemption," she explained, watching as her words bounced idly off the people in front of her who had already made up their minds would not be swayed by anything she might say in Jowan's defense. "He was manipulated by Loghain into believing what he did was best for Ferelden and then left here to die. It does not excuse his actions, but it makes me sympathetic to him in a way I might not have been otherwise."

"I would never have trusted him." Teagan admitted, "I still don't."

"Once the issue with Eamon is… resolved… I would like to seem him released…" Elissa began, crossing her arms.

"**RELEASED?** Are you mad?" Isolde yelled, speaking on top of Elissa's words. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"I agree with Isolde. He is a maleficar. We cannot simply unleash him on the land and ignore his crimes." Teagan insisted, shaking his head and furiously waving a hand about.

"If you would kindly** allow** me to finish…" Elissa hissed, her voice angry and low as she glared Isolde into silence. "I was going to say, I would like to see him released into the hands of the Circle. The crimes he committed would be best punished there, and **only** they are capable of dealing with him. I will speak on his behalf – but I will not interfere with whatever sentence they choose to place upon him," she explained, watching Teagan's expression ease a bit though Isolde still remained rigid, "and if you **still** find yourselves unwilling to consider my suggestion, I ask that you **remember** that Jowan **did** risk his life to save Connor."

"Perhaps you are correct…" Teagan allowed, ignoring the irritated huff from Isolde. "But that is Eamon's decision, not mine. For now I will keep Jowan in the dungeon when he recovers from his efforts in the Fade."

"I certainly did not expect you to put him up in a room, Teagan." Elissa said, rolling her eyes. "I only asked that you consider something other than mounting his head on your wall like the trophy Lady Isolde seems so eager to claim. After all…" she continued, smiling a deceptively sweet smile at the Arlessa though her words dripped with venom, "she is just as guilty in these crimes. Though she did not poison your brother with her own hand or allow her son to congress with a demon, it was her **knowing** deception that allowed both to occur."

"Why you impertinent little…" Isolde seethed, taking a step toward Elissa who only tilted her chin in response. "How **dare** you…"

"Ladies, **ladies**!" Teagan yelled, holding an arm out to draw Isolde back behind him before the much more capable rogue decided to dismantle her, and trusting Alistair to manage Elissa as best he could. "Our task here is not done yet, so I need you **both** to put this foolishness aside!" He watched as both of them relaxed, but noted that the anger did not dwindle in their eyes. "Whatever the demon did to my brother, it seems to have spared his life… but he remains comatose. We still cannot wake him."

"The Urn! I say again, the Urn of Sacred Ashes will **save** Eamon!" Isolde insisted, gazing hopefully at Teagan who turned his eyes to Elissa.

"Let. Me. Guess." Elissa chuckled humorlessly. "You need **us** to help you search for it?"

"If your business leads you elsewhere… then I will not hold you here, but I hope that you want to restore Eamon as much as we do." Teagan said, his tired eyes sparkling lightly with some of the affection Elissa was more familiar with seeing.

"My husband funded the research of a scholar in Denerim… a Brother Genitivi." Isolde explained, her words stilted as she relayed her information to Elissa. "He has been studying the inscriptions on Andraste's Birth Rock. When Eamon fell ill, I sent the knights to speak with him. I hoped that he had finally discovered the location of the Urn of Sacred Ashes itself." Elissa gestured that she should speed this explanation along, not really caring for her heart rending additions at the moment – and Isolde huffed before obliging her. "The knights were unable to locate Genitivi. So I sent more knights out to search for him or **anything** that might give us a clue to the Urn's location. None have returned and I know not what fate has befallen them. If you plan to search for the Urn, I would suggest seeking Genitivi yourself. If you cannot find him, perhaps you can find some record that will point you where he might have gone."

"And what will **you** be doing in the meantime?" Elissa asked, making it clear that if she was delaying her fight against the darkspawn and walking into the lion's den itself to search for this silly relic that might not even exist – they had best be doing something that would eventually aid her cause.

"I must organize Eamon's knights as they return, draft new soldiers, and prepare the army to fight – along with rebuilding the village and the castle from the damage incurred during the attacks." Teagan explained, slightly frustrated that Elissa would question him but understanding her frustration at being used as a glorified errand girl. "I will hand Redcliffe back to Eamon when he awakens, and in a state where it can be of some good to you in the coming war. Truly, Elissa, what else do you expect me to do?"

"I will go and seek this relic…" Elissa sighed, rubbing at her face wearily. "But I cannot waste eternity chasing a figment. If I find nothing to go on in Denerim, then I will abandon the cause and return to my efforts to see the Wardens' treaties fulfilled. I am sorry, but that is the most I am willing to offer you."

"And that is all I can ask." Teagan said, his face showing relief as he reached over to squeeze her shoulders. "If the urn exists, I know that you will find it."

Shrugging off the sentiment in irritation, Elissa turned her company back out the main doors and into the courtyard – wanting to make as much progress toward Denerim as they could before settling down to make camp for the night.

"I really wish you would reconsider this, Elissa." Alistair insisted, his voice heavy with concern. "I do not wish to see Arl Eamon perish any more than Teagan or Isolde, but I am worried that walking into Denerim would be like handing you over to those monsters."

"We have no choice, Alistair." Elissa sighed, reaching to pull the cowl Morrigan had given her out of her pack and securing it over her head and face as they moved out of the safety of Redcliffe Castle's walls. "You and I both knew we would have to risk Denerim eventually – and I urge you to consider disguising your own identity while we remain in the city. You may not think much of your bloodline, but I can **assure** you that – at the very least – **Howe** does. He will not hesitate to kill you to insure his plans for the throne go unhindered - and I would prefer not to have **another** reason to kill the man."

Alistair swallowed hard, knowing she was right, and made a plan to speak with Leliana about converting a portion of his cloak into a cowl of his own.

* * *

><p>When they made camp for the night, neither Alistair or Elissa had to discuss where they would sleep – it was simply known that they would share a bedroll as they had not slept apart since that first night in the Spoiled Princess near the docks of Lake Calenhad.<p>

With their tents combined into one, they had plenty of space for their things and themselves – and Elissa chuckled affectionately at Alistair's ingenuity in coming up with the idea to do it.

"So… now that we're back at camp, I wanted to talk about what happened at Redcliffe." Alistair said, crawling over to sit on the bedroll with her and picking at the plate of food she'd lain out between them.

"I think it turned out quite well, all things considered." Elissa mumbled over a mouthful of food. "Don't you?"

"Other than you and Isolde nearly taking each other's heads off over Jowan…" he replied, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, come now, Alistair," she laughed, waving off his concern. "We both know only the Arlessa would have lost a head had it come to blows…"

"You're probably right, there." Alistair said, laughing uncomfortably as he was unsure how much of what she said was in jest then clearing his throat and moving back to the topic he'd originally meant to discuss. "Anyway… I just wanted to thank you. You went out of your way to save Arl Eamon's family and you actually **did** it… even though it would have been easier not to – and in spite of how little affection you hold for Isolde." He sighed at her, and took a large bite of cheese. "We've seen **so** much death and destruction already, and there's bound to be so much more before we reach the end of this… it makes me feel good that we were able to save **something**, no matter how small. In spite of what you might think of the circumstances… I owe the Arl at least that much."

"You give me too much credit, Alistair." Elissa began, watching as his eyes turned up to her in confusion. "The **only** reason I pushed myself to accomplish any of that was you… the **only** reason I'm going to look for this stupid urn is you… and should we find it and save your uncle, I'll make sure that each and every one of them understands just how much they owe **you** for these efforts…" She watched the emotions rushing over him as he realized how much she was revealing to him with her explanation. "I know every effort we make gives us more allies to call on to stop the Blight, and to end this Civil War Loghain seems intent on having – but I would be disinclined to push forward with some of these plans were it not for the feelings I have for **you**."

"Alright!" Alistair said, dusting the food crumbs off his hands and putting the plate outside the tent, unsure where to go after all that Elissa had said - this thing developing between them was so new and he was so inexperienced that he became easily overwhelmed. "Now that the warm fuzzy part of the day is over with, can we get back to the ritual dismemberments? Oh… wait… it's not Tuesday is it?"

"Teagan may be right, my heart may be the weakness that ultimately breaks me…" she sighed, watching him furrow his brow as he crawled to lie down beside her – his eyes falling on the piece of jewelry she had pulled loose from her pack and pressed into his hands. "But I'll not let that fear stop me from taking what happiness I can in your companionship."

"This… this is my mother's amulet!" Alistair gasped, turning the metal over and over in his hands in disbelief as he sat back upright. "Why isn't it broken? Where did you find it?"

"I found it in Redcliffe Castle, in the study." Elissa explained, watching him register the memory of coming across her rifling through the Arl's things.

"Oh! In Eamon's study?" he asked, meeting her eyes for a moment before his eyes grew distant in a memory. "Then he must have found it after I threw it at the wall… he repaired it and… **kept** it all these years? I don't understand… why would he do that?"

"Perhaps you mean more to him than you think?" she shrugged, remaining where she'd lounged against the pillows of their bedrolls.

"I… guess you could be right. We never really talked that much, and then the way I left…" Alistair started.

"Look, Alistair, I hold **no** affection for the man or his shrew of a wife…" Elissa admitted, watching him flinch at the venom in her words. "The way they treated you was… abhorrent… and I just don't have it within me to forgive that, I'm sorry. I know you care for the Arl as a father of sorts, and I will respect that regardless of how I might feel - so you can go ahead and stop worrying... but I gave this to you as a reminder that though broken things can be repaired, the scars will **always** remain… you have to decide whether you can see past them or not. Anything else you choose to make of it, is your own meaning to provide."

"Thank you… I mean it…" he said, reaching over to take her hand and stroke it affectionately – she could have easily hidden the necklace from him, and had obviously considered that option. "I thought I had lost this to my own stupidity. I can't believe you remembered me mentioning it. I'm used to people not really listening when I go on about things."

"Of course I remembered," she said, her voice quiet but intense – so intense it sent chills all over his body. "You're special to me. I would think everything I just said would have illustrated that quite clearly if you didn't believe it already."

"Well, then… if we're set in this gift giving pouring out of hearts course, then I have something for you." Alistair replied, clearing his throat and digging something out of his own pack as he tucked his mother's amulet away. "Here, do you know what this is?"

"Your new weapon of choice?" Elissa smirked, running her eyes across the delicate pink flower he held gently in his hand.

"Yes, that's right. Watch as I thrash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements! Feel my thorns darkspawn! I will overpower you with my rosy scent!" he joked, waving it about a bit as though it were a sword and smiling when Elissa laughed heartily in response. "Or… you know… it **could **just be a rose. I know that's pretty dull in comparison…"

"Sentiment can be a pretty potent weapon…" she said, calming her laughter when she saw how nervous he was – and pulling herself up to sit in front of him – her knees pressing against his own.

"Is it that easy to see right through me?" he whispered, meeting the intensity of her green eyes with the heat that burned within the amber of his own. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised… I picked this in Lothering… I remember thinking _how can something so beautiful exist in a place filled with so much despair and ugliness_? I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn't. The darkspawn would come, and their taint would just destroy it. I've had it ever since."

"It's remarkably well preserved for you to have had it tossing about in your pack for so long." Elissa mused, leaning forward and brushing her hands against his own while she inspected it.

"I had Morrigan enchant it." Alistair laughed, watching Elissa's eyebrows shoot up in surprise that the witch had willingly done **anything** he had requested of her. "I had to pay her… and even then I think she only did it because she knew I planned on giving it to you, and she thought that might possibly make you happy…" he watched her straighten up, her face awash in several new emotions as he opened her hand and pressed the rose into it.

"Feeling a bit **thorny**, are you?" she smiled, waggling her eyebrows at him.

"Wow! Thought you'd never see that one coming," he chuckled, watching her brush the flower lightly across her lips then crawl into his lap – wrapping her legs around his waist as she settled against him. "Boy… was I wrong…"

"Relax, Alistair…" Elissa said, laughing softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "You know I like it when you flirt."

"It is a bit silly though, isn't it?" Alistair said, allowing his arms to fall down around her waist, rubbing softly at her lower back through the fabric of her shirt. "I just thought… I've been doing all this complaining – picking over your decisions and not really contributing much to them… and you haven't exactly been having a good time of things… you've had **none** of the good experiences of being a Grey Warden since your joining…" he brought a hand up and caressed her face gently. "Not an honest word of thanks or congratulations… it's been nothing but death and fighting and tragedy…" She could hear his breath coming faster, feel the heat radiating off his body – likely hear the pounding of his heart in his chest – but he didn't care. "I thought maybe I could say something… make you understand what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amongst all this… **darkness**."

"I feel the same way about you…" she whispered, pulling one of her hands forward and running a thumb along his bottom lip. "You are the light that guides me through this, Alistair."

"I'm glad you liked it…" he breathed, clearing his throat suddenly. "Now… if we could move right on past this awkward, embarrassing stage and get right to the steamy bits… I'd appreciate it."

"Sounds good." Elissa replied, running her fingers up underneath his tunic and trailing them up the bare skin of his stomach onto his chest. "Off with the clothes then."

"Bluff called!" Alistair choked out, laughing nervously at the sensations her hands on his bare skin were sending coursing through his body. "Damn!"

"You are **so** cute when you're bashful…" she continued, running her hands around him and trailing her nails lightly against the skin of his back.

"Well, you make me feel as though I might catch fire with it so I'm thankful that it meets with your approval," he laughed, breathing out with relief when she kissed him quickly then crawled over to her pack to store his rose.

"Now come to bed before I forget my promise to wait to ravish you…" Elissa smiled, curling under the blankets and patting the open spot beside her – waiting for him to climb in beside her before she blew out the candle beside them and left them in darkness.

_How much longer can you hold out, man?_ Alistair wondered, shivering in pleasure as Elissa's arms wrapped around him and her breasts pressed against his back when she curled next to him. _And __**what**__ is it that you're waiting for?_


	25. Chapter 25: Desperately Seeking Genitivi

**_Disclaimer_**_: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** And here we have one of my favorite comic relief characters - swarthy little bastard that he is :) _

_Thanks as usual to my faithful, and the new readers I've picked up. _

_As always, I couldn't have done it without my Lady Beta **artemiskat**._

_Happy Reading! :) _

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter Twenty-Five: Desperately Seeking Genitivi<span>**  
><em>

Alistair had taken Elissa's advice and chosen to begin making an effort to conceal his own identity as they traveled the questionably safe roads of Ferelden – seeking out Leliana who had removed a section of his cloak and constructed a cowl similar to the one Morrigan had given to Elissa.

"You know, if you keep pulling it off your face like that it isn't going to do much good." Elissa chuckled, glancing at him from the corner of her eye as he tugged it away from his jaw again.

"I don't know what the one Morrigan gave **you** is made of, but mine is made of the same wool as that stupid cloak and it's itchy!" Alistair complained, scratching at his neck but securing it back into place all the same.

Elissa started to respond when a disheveled woman came jogging up to them from just around the bend in the road.

"Oh, thank the Maker! We need help!" she panted, frantically clutching at Elissa's arms and trying to drag her forward. "They attacked our wagons! Please… **please** help us!"

Elissa started to reach for her swords, but the woman insisted that the attackers were gone and she simply needed help righting the wagons and tending to the wounded. After asking Wynne and Morrigan if they would mind helping to heal anyone with major injuries – Elissa allowed the haggard woman to lead her forward.

"Watch her carefully." Sten's voice grumbled from just beyond Alistair's shoulder. "Something about this seems… off…"

Alistair nodded his agreement, and turned to continue following behind Elissa when he heard a popping and cracking off to the side.

"Elissa!" he yelled, taking off at a sprint as soon as he realized what was happening – and that the tree being pulled loose was going to fall on her before she even noticed she was walking into a trap.

The next thing Elissa remembered was Alistair scrambling off her and helping her to her feet as all chaos bloomed around them. Assassins sprung from the trees, the bushes, behind rocks and the fallen carts – they were surrounded. It had all been a ruse, and Elissa was livid.

She pulled loose her swords and tossed herself fully into battle, deflecting arrows and cutting down their attackers with ease. She stunned the one she perceived to be the leader and left him unconscious on the ground while she and her companions took care of the rest of them.

Taking one final look at the tree that would have killed her had Alistair not been paying attention, she stomped over to the unconscious man and prodded him with the toe of her boot – rolling him to his back and planting the foot firmly on his chest as he woke – allowing the blade of her sword to lay across her thigh just in case it was needed.

"Mmm… what? I… oh!" the elven man mumbled, looking up Elissa's long leg appreciatively as he came back to consciousness. "I rather thought I would wake up dead… or, not wake up at all, as the case may be. But, I see you haven't killed me yet."

"That could easily be rectified…" Elissa said, her words calm and even but still threatening.

"Of that, I have **no** doubt. You are most… skilled…" he said with a leer, tucking one arm behind his head and toying with the edge of her boot with his free hand. "However… if you **haven't** killed me, then you must have kept me alive for some purpose… yes?"

"You seem awfully glib for a man held prisoner at the end of my sword." Elissa noted, raising an eyebrow at him and holding a hand up to still Alistair's approach because he had started moving as soon as the elf had laid his hand on her boot.

"It is my way, or so I am told," he laughed, beginning to stroke at her leather covered toes. "Let's see… I assume you kept me alive to ask me some questions, yes? If so, let me save you some time and get right to the point. My name is Zevran. Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying your fellow Grey Warden there and… retrieving you unharmed. Sadly, I have failed at both tasks."

"I'm rather happy you failed…" Elissa replied, tipping her head to Alistair as though to say 'I told you so' as the elf had now admitted exactly what she had already believed to be true – Howe wanted him dead, and her… for other things she'd rather not think too hard about.

"I would be happy too, were I in your shoes. For me, however, it sets a rather poor precedent, doesn't it?" Zevran continued, shrugging his shoulders. "Getting captured by one of your targets seems a **tad** detrimental to one's budding assassin career."

"Too bad for you then." Elissa shrugged, reaching a gloved finger over and toying with the point of her blade, hoping the motion relayed her waning patience.

"Yes, it's true… too bad for me…" the elf responded, seeming more turned on by her actions than upset or intimidated.

"Who hired you for this task?" Elissa asked, stopping her earlier motion and watching the elf sigh in disappointment.

"A rather taciturn fellow in the capital, Loghain, I think his name was." Zevran explained, fiddling with his chin as he tried to recall. "Yes, that was it… though I believe the idea was more his companion's than his own…"

"Shorter man, always frowning, large beak of a nose?" Elissa inquired, waving about her face as she described it.

"That would be him," the elf smiled.

"Howe." Elissa said, looking at her companions briefly in explanation and noting that Alistair was now especially worried. "When were you to see him next?"

"I wasn't." Zevran answered succinctly. "If I had succeeded, I would have returned home and the Crows would have informed your Loghain of the results… if he didn't already know, which – as I was to retrieve and deliver you to an agreed upon location… well, he would likely have an idea of my success," the elf chuckled, beginning to stroke a bit higher up her leg. "If I had failed… well, I would be dead, or **should** be – at least as far as the Crows are concerned. There would be no need to see Loghain then."

"**If** you had failed?" Elissa chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him and trying to suppress a smile.

"What can I say, I am an eternal optimist!" the elf laughed, his face completely alight with his smile. "Although… the chances of success at this point seem a bit slim, don't they?"

"How much were you paid?" Alistair asked, struggling to wrap his mind around everything.

"**I** wasn't paid anything." Zevran snipped, glancing at Alistair only for a moment before turning his full attention eagerly back to Elissa. "The Crows, however, were paid quite handsomely… or so I understood. The beak-nosed one, as you called him, seemed very… **eager** to have you back among his possessions."

"I was **never** one of his possessions!" Elissa hissed, dropping down so quickly it surprised everyone around her, the assassin's eyes gone wide in fear as she dug her knee into his chest and pressed the point of her blade into the skin of his throat.

"N-noted…" the elf stuttered out, his fear managing to overshadow his flirtatious demeanor - but only for a second – he soon replaced his mask as Elissa pulled back her blade and relaxed onto her heels. "Now, where was I… Oh, yes – as I said, I was paid nothing – making me as poor as a chantry mouse. Being an Antivan Crow isn't for the ambitious, to be perfectly honest."

"Then why **be** one?" Elissa asked, finally deciding the elf wasn't dangerous enough to warrant constant vigilance and sheathing her sword, though she kept him pinned to the dirt.

"Well, aside from a distinct lack of ambition to be anything else, I suppose it's because I wasn't given much of a choice." Zevran explained with a shrug , his eyes watching her cautiously as she put away her weapon. "The Crows bought me young, I was a bargain, too, or so I'm led to believe." He watched her note how he inspected each of her companions, all of whom remained armed though she was not. "But don't let my sad story influence you… the Crows aren't so bad. They keep one well supplied: wine, women, men… whatever you happen to fancy…" he smiled at her seductively and rubbed at her calf again. "Though, the whole severance package is garbage, let me tell you. If you were considering joining, I'd really think twice about it."

"Thanks." Elissa sighed, reaching over to remove his hand from her leg. "I'll take that under advisement."

"You seem like a bright girl…" he chuckled, allowing her to deter him for the moment. "I'm sure you have other options."

"So, after all this chatter I'm left wondering… just how loyal you could be to Howe and Loghain?" Elissa wondered, tapping at her bottom lip thoughtfully.

"I have no idea what their issues are with you… the usual, I'd imagine." Zevran noted, watching the way she worried at her full mouth with great interest. "You… threaten their… power… yes?" he muttered, completely distracted by her until she turned her piercing gaze on him, narrowing her green eyes just enough to bring him back to attention. "Beyond that, no… I'm not loyal to them. I was contracted to perform a service."

"And now that you've failed at that service?" Elissa asked, hearing the muttering begin among her companions as they began to realize where she was headed with this.

"Well… that's between Loghain and the Crows…" the elf explained, "and the Crows and myself."

"And between **you** and **me**." Elissa reminded him, pushing on his chest with her knee.

"Is that not what we're establishing now?" Zevran laughed, stroking at her calf once again.

"Why are you so willing to tell me all of this?" Elissa asked, ignoring his attempts at seduction for the moment. "I haven't tortured you or anything… I didn't even do a particularly good job of roughing you up to be perfectly honest. It usually takes quite a bit more effort on my part to have the canaries singing so sweetly to me."

"Why should I not?" the elf shrugged. "I wasn't paid for silence… not that I offered it, precisely."

"Aren't you at least loyal to your employers?" Elissa laughed, wondering if the man considered anything sacred.

"Loyalty is an interesting concept…" Zevran said, leering at her. "If you wish, and you're done interrogating me, we can discuss it further."

"I'm listening." Elissa said, moving away from his touch and walking to lean against a nearby fence, waiting for him to follow. "But make it quick… I already feel as though my time is being wasted, and wasted time leaves me **very** annoyed."

"Well, here's the thing…" he began, strolling over to stand in front of her. "I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit… that's how it works. If you don't kill me, the Crows will." He moved closer still, boldly placing one hand on either side of her and bracing himself against the fence "The thing is, I **like** living… and you, **obviously**, are the sort who will give the Crows pause… so… let me serve **you** instead."

"You must think I'm royally stupid." Elissa laughed, refusing to reveal her hand just yet – though she had decided he would be more useful to her dead than alive some time ago.

"I think you're royally tough to kill. And utterly gorgeous." Zevran admitted, leaning forward to toy with a lock of her hair that had fallen loose from her cowl during their battle. "Not that I think you'll respond to simple flattery. But there are worse things in life than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess."

"What's to stop you from finishing the job later?" Elissa asked, lightly shaking her head at Alistair who was furious that the assassin would dare to touch her and had started to advance again.

"To be completely honest, I was never given much of a choice regarding joining the Crows." The elf began, drawing away from her and realizing that he was going to have to lay it all out there if she was ever to believe him sincere. "They bought me on the slave market when I was a child. I think I've paid my worth back to them tenfold. The only way out, is for me to sign up with someone they can't touch. Even if I did kill you now, they would likely kill me on principle for failing the first time… so… I'd honestly rather take my chances with you."

"And I should expect the same amount of loyalty from you that your previous benefactors received, I suppose?" Elissa pressed, crossing her arms and fixing the elf with her most penetrating stare.

"I happen to be a very loyal person, up until the point where someone expects me to die for failing." Zevran replied, not faltering under her gaze the way most would in his position. "That's not really a fault, is it? I mean… unless you're the sort who would do the same thing… In which case, I don't come very highly recommended I suppose."

"Why would you be useful to me?" Elissa wondered, figuring there must be things that he was good at other than killing… or attempting to kill.

"Why? Because I am skilled at many things… from fighting, to stealth, to picking locks," he offered, watching her taking note of the things that she could already do just fine without him. "I **could** also warn you should the Antivan Crows attempt something more… sophisticated… now that my attempts have failed."

"And what do you want in return for these services?" Elissa asked, certain that no one did anything for free… least of all a hired assassin.

"Well… let's see… being allowed to live would be nice, and would make me marginally more useful to you." Zevran chuckled, moving closer to her. "And… somewhere down the line if you decide you no longer have need of me, then I go on my way. Until then… I am yours…" he said, smiling seductively as he put his arms on either side of her and leaned in close to her face – his nose almost touching her own. "I can also stand around and look pretty, if you prefer. Warm your bed…" he brushed his nose against hers lightly and glanced over with her at Alistair who had now decided to ignore her earlier request and stomped angrily toward them. "Fend off unwanted suitors…"

"Is this before or after you stab me in the back?" Elissa laughed, allowing Alistair to shove him away from her.

"These things you say… they must drive the men around you **wild**," the elf laughed, winking at Alistair who bristled angrily in response. "So, what shall it be? I will even shine your armor if that is what you desire. You won't find a better deal, I promise."

"Very well." Elissa said, chuckling a bit as she reached over to shake his hand. "I accept your offer."

"What? You're taking the **assassin** with us now?" Alistair hissed, glaring at him then back at her. "Does that **really** seem like a good idea?"

"Alistair, between you and Sten do you **really** think he's going to have the opportunity to get at me again?" Elissa sighed, reaching over to take his hands in hers and work her magic to soothe his nerves. "We could use him. As you have pointed out on many occasions, I am not very stealthy…"

"Ugh… all right… I see your point." Alistair huffed, tugging her closer and wrapping his arms around her waist if for no other reason than to show the assassin who was allowed to do that. "Still… if there were a sign that we are desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said hello."

Elissa stretched up to kiss his cheek, mouthing _thank you_ before turning back to the assassin who knelt down before her dipping his head forward.

"I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such time as you choose to release me from it," the elf said, turning his face up to her with a smile. "I am your man, without reservation… this I swear."

Reaching down with a smile, Elissa took his hand and pulled him to his feet, getting them moving once again on their journey to Denerim.

* * *

><p>Elissa breathed a sigh of relief as they entered the walls of Denerim, the irony of that action not lost on her. While in the city they would be in constant danger, yet Elissa was happy that her companions would also be forced to behave.<p>

It had become apparent on their journey that Zevran and Alistair were **not** fans of one another. Aside from the differences in general principles (Alistair having too many built on Chantry naivete and Zevran having, well... **none**) – the two men both had a personal interest in Elissa – which made them natural enemies – but also seemed to make the assassin and Morrigan natural friends.

Zevran flirted mercilessly, as he had from the moment he'd opened his eyes and caught sight of her – and though Elissa noted that he would occasionally turn his attention to Leliana, Morrigan and even Wynne until she warned him away – he always returned to her. Alistair hated that, and it seemed to be all he could do to contain his temper.

Elissa had been forced to pull him aside at one point and assure him that she had no affection toward the elven assassin other than the use he could be in their quest. His flirtatious nature was just a part of who he was, and though anyone could see that his attentions toward Elissa were… different… than how he was toward just about everything else that moved, she knew that she needed Alistair to believe otherwise if they were to continue without blood being shed between the Templar and the assassin.

Eventually, Alistair caved, realizing that his possessive behavior was beginning to wear on Elissa and cause friction between them – and as their relationship was still in its infancy, he did not want to test her patience, and so he did the best he could to let it go.

As they moved into the city, an angry armored man planted himself in front of Elissa – glaring at her wickedly.

"I recognize you… from Ostagar…" he said, narrowing his eyes as he inspected her closer – and grabbing her arm when she tried to move away. "Andraste's blood! You're her… Duncan's apprentice!" he hissed, yanking her against him. "You killed my friend and good King Cailan… I **demand** satisfaction, ser."

"I did no such thing… Cailan was my friend as well as my king, and Duncan and the men who died along with him did not deserve what they suffered." Elissa hissed, jerking her arm free from his grasp and reaching up to tap at the hilt of her sword with twitching fingers as Alistair and Sten moved closer to her. "Now, lower your voice or I will be forced to silence it permanently."

"I have… heard of the Grey Warden's battle prowess… and you seem **far** more capable than you did at Ostagar…" the man admitted, eying her companions warily. "I won't throw my life away; too many depend on me… but by word and deed here, you condemn yourself, ser. A time will come when someone will make you pay for what you have done."

"I have no doubt that I will pay for the many sins I have committed and will continue to commit in the name of the greater good." Elissa admitted, her heart aching as she realized just how true that was. "But it will not be you who reaps the bounty from that. Now go, before I change my mind."

Alistair watched the way her shoulders fell as she walked away from the retreating man, as though the burden she carried had gained weight with the each of his damning words. He wished he could do more to help, to reassure her that she was not alone – and that the things that she did would not condemn her soul, but he had no idea what to say to that end.

In front of him the assassin darted over to a leaflet posted on the wall just outside the alienage, calling her attention to it.

"Don't believe the lies! Friends of the Grey Wardens assemble. The hidden pearl holds the key to resistance. The griffons will rise again!" Elissa read, tugging the poster loose and tucking it into her journal for another time. "Well, perhaps we aren't **completely** alone… I'm sure we'll be back in the city again; we might have to look into this. For now, let's keep moving."

Elissa patted Zevran on the shoulder thoughtfully as she put her journal back into her pack and continued to move in the direction Isolde had described Genitivi's house being.

"Wait!" Alistair called out, running to her side and laying a gentle hand on her arm. "That's my sister's house… I'm almost sure of it… this is…" he looked around, his mouth moving as he noted the surrounding house numbers. "Yes, this is the right address. Could we… go and see?"

"Wouldn't you rather meet her on your own?" Elissa asked, remembering how things had gone in his Fade meeting with his long lost sister and figuring he might want some time alone with her before being forced to introduce his… what was she? … girlfriend she supposed.

"Do I seem a little nervous?" he chuckled, running his hands through his hair. "I am. I really don't know what to expect… and I'd like you to be there with me, if you're willing." He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it affectionately. "Or, we could leave… I suppose. We really don't have time for a visit, do we? Maybe we should go…"

"Relax, Alistair, take a deep breath," she encouraged, reaching up to lay a hand against his cheek. "Let's go in and see if she's there. The others can wait out here for a moment. Okay?"

"Will she even know who I am? Does she even know I exist?" Alistair muttered, looking incredibly anxious as she moved them closer to the door. "My sister… hmm… that sounds very strange… sister… siiiiiiiiister…." He continued to mumble as Elissa guided him closer. "Now I'm babbling. Maybe we should just go. Let's go… just go…"

"Oh, no you don't." Elissa grabbed him, pulling the door open with one hand and shoving him inside with the other, then following behind him.

* * *

><p>"Err… hello?" Alistair called out, glaring at Elissa momentarily for shoving him inside – and noting that she only shrugged and leaned casually against the wall in response.<p>

"Eh? You have linens to wash?" a tired but still subtly attractive woman said, moving toward them. "I charge three bits on the bundle, you won't find better. And don't trust what that Natalia woman tells you either, she's foreign and she'll rob you blind."

"I'm… not here to have any wash done." Alistair explained, looking to Elissa for support when his voice faltered – and turning to continue when she smiled at him encouragingly. "I'm… well this might sound sort of strange… but are you Goldanna? If so, I suppose I'm your brother…"

"My **what**?" the woman hissed, eyes narrowing slightly. "I am Goldanna… yes, how do you know my name? What kind of tomfoolery are you folk up to?"

"He's telling the truth." Elissa insisted, keeping her voice even and calm – and slightly sweet because Alistair **needed** for this to go smoothly, and she owed him enough to help ease the process however she could. "Just listen to him."

"Look, our mother, she worked as a servant at Redcliffe Castle…a long time ago." Alistair continued, encouraged by Elissa's soothing voice. "Before she died… do you know about that? She…"

"**You**! I knew it!" Goldanna screeched, stepping forward angrily. "They told me you was dead! They told me the babe was dead along with mother, but I **knew** they was lying!"

"They told you I was **dead**?" Alistair gasped, moving forward himself. "Who? Who told you that?"

"Them's at the castle!" Goldanna sighed with irritation. "I told them the babe was the King's, and they told me he was dead. Gave me coin to shut my mouth, and sent me on my way. I **knew** it!"

"I'm sorry… I-I didn't know that." Alistair said, swallowing and pressing his eyes shut for a moment before reaching over to touch her arm. "Well, the babe didn't die. I'm him… I'm your brother."

"For all the good it does me!" Goldanna huffed, yanking her arm away before he could touch it. "You **killed** mother, you did, and I've had to scrape by all this time! That coin they gave didn't last long, and when I went back they ran me off!"

"That's hardly Alistair's fault." Elissa said, trying to maintain her calm though the look she gave the woman said everything the sweet tone of her voice did not.

"And who in the Maker's name are you?" Goldanna said, narrowing her eyes angrily. "Some tart following after his riches I expect!"

"Hey! Don't speak to her that way!" Alistair yelled, placing himself between them before Elissa could react to the insult the way he knew her temper would press her to. "She's my… **girlfriend**," he said finally, watching the way Elissa smiled at his use of the word. "And a Grey Warden, just like me!"

"Ooooh! I see… a prince **and** a Grey Warden!" Goldanna sneered, rolling her eyes at them. "Well, who am I to think poorly of someone so high and mighty compared to me?" She stepped forward, shaking a finger in his face. "I don't know you boy! Your royal father **forced** himself on my mother and took her away from me, and what do I got to show for it? **Nothing**. They tricked me good! I should have told **everyone**! But I didn't… and now I got five mouths to feed… so unless you can help with that, I got **less** than no use for you!"

"I-I'm sorry…" Alistair stuttered, faltering in the face of her angry accusations – never having thought that perhaps his life with Eamon and then in the Chantry could have been the better option. "I-I don't know what to say…"

"Goldanna." Elissa tried again, putting on her sweetest smile and shifting her voice to the most persuasive tone she had to offer. "Alistair only came here hoping to find his family, hoping to find some connection to his past."

"Well, he found it! And what good is that to me?" Goldanna laughed, glaring at the redhead as though she could force her to burst into flames with the heat from her eyes alone. "None, that's what, unless he can see that his **family** lives as it should!"

"I suppose maybe I could give her some money… for my nieces and nephews…" Alistair said hesitantly, looking to Elissa for confirmation. "Fifteen sovereigns maybe? Would you let me give her that?"

"Ugh… if you must." Elissa replied, rolling her eyes and digging loose the coin purse and tossing it to him. "But she'd **better** be grateful!" she hissed, glaring daggers at Goldanna who didn't even flinch. "And **you'd** better be glad Morrigan isn't here, she'd be livid we're giving her anything."

"Then here, Goldanna… take this money, I know it's not much but…" Alistair tried, pulling loose the amount he'd agreed upon.

"You, a prince, marching in here with your fancy armor and your pretty little girlfriend, and **this** is all you got to offer?" Goldanna scoffed, jingling the coin in her hands before tossing it to a nearby table. "You must think I'm very stupid!"

"No, wait!" Alistair pleaded, watching her turn to walk away. "That's not what I think at all. I want to help, if I can…"

"You want to help?" Goldanna replied, striding up to him and shaking her finger in his face again. "You go to whatever high-and-mighty folks yous run with and you tell them you got nieces and nephews ain't living like they got a right to. You go do that!"

"Let's go, Alistair." Elissa said gently, reaching for his hand and trying to lead him to the door. "There's nothing for you here."

"You're right," he admitted sadly, taking comfort in her hand lying softly within the grasp of his own. "I don't know why I came…"

"I don't know why you came either, or what you expected to find, but it isn't here!" Goldanna yelled, furious that she had lost any guilt she had once wielded to this other woman who was now leading her meal ticket out the door. "Now get out of my house, the both of you!"

"Someone ought to cut out that tongue of yours!" Elissa hissed, furiously spinning on the wash-woman who stumbled back in surprise before Alistair caught her by her upper arms, fighting to physically restrain her.

"No! Just… leave her alone… it's her house after all." Alistair said, trying to calm Elissa's temper as she fought against his grip. "Let's just go."

Elissa kicked at the door as it closed behind them, watching as Alistair waved their concerned companions away for a moment while he tried to diffuse her.

"Well… that was **not** what I expected, to put it mildly…" Alistair muttered nervously, watching Elissa pace and curse under her breath. "I'm sorry I gave her anything at all. This is the family I've been wondering about all my life? That gold-digging harridan? I can't believe it!" he shrugged and rubbed at the back of his neck sadly. "I… I guess I was expecting her to accept me without question. Isn't that what family is supposed to do? I-I'm **such** an idiot."

"You are **not** an idiot." Elissa said, striding over to him and grabbing his face in her hands – pulling him down to her so that his forehead rested against her own. "You don't need that woman, Alistair. You have others who care for you."

"The only person who ever really cared about me was Duncan, and he's gone." Alistair said sadly, closing his eyes against the pain of that memory.

"What about me?" Elissa asked sadly, stroking his cheek tenderly. "You know I care for you… or don't I count?"

"I… I'm sorry, I didn't think…" Alistair replied, his eyes finding hers and his breath catching when he saw how much she meant every word she said. "I… thank you, Elissa. I'm glad you were with me. Now… let's go. I don't want to think about this anymore."

* * *

><p>They had narrowly avoided calling too much attention to themselves with the city guard twice, leaving Alistair so flustered it required almost all of Elissa's focus just to keep him from running screaming for the nearest exit and dragging her along behind him. It was for this reason that Elissa, in her distraction, ran head on into the side of the head of the guard himself.<p>

"Let me guess." Sergeant Kylon sighed, helping to right the young woman who had just barreled into him before she toppled onto the ground in front of him. "You're here to report **another** crime. I swear… we should just cordon off the entire district!" He chuckled in his frustration and looked to the men at his sides who nodded their response, before his eyes finally focused in on the face of the woman in front of him. "Oh! I'm sorry… I assumed you were…" he released his hold on her, smiling slightly. "How can I help you, Warden?"

"How do you know who I am?" Elissa whispered, looking to see if anyone other than her companions and his guards had heard the label he placed on her.

"Your likeness was passed around to the senior guardsmen at the palace," he explained, allowing his eyes to appreciate the delicate features of her face hidden in the shadows of her cowl. "I must say, my Lady, the sketch did not do you justice." He noted that the elf behind her chuckled appreciatively until he was silenced by a glare from her large blonde companion – who he knew from the same sketches to be the other Warden. "Don't worry… even if I believed the _official story_ of what happened at Ostagar, I'm no fool. If I asked my men to apprehend you, they'd all run and cry big, sobby tears in their courtesan's bosoms and leave me here to be skewered," he explained, glaring in disgust at the men on either side of him until they looked away in shame. "Just, don't disturb the peace in the market and that will do well enough for me to look the other way."

"Is the market really that bad off?" Wynne asked, the entire company relaxing when they realized the city guard wasn't the least bit interested in them.

"The lower market wasn't deemed important by the Captain of the Guard when King Cailan was alive, and it's even less so with Arl Howe in charge," the Sergeant sniffed, "so when I finally got the new men I requested, I got the delightful surprise of discovering they're Lord-so-and-so's illegitimate, untrained, moronic whelp." He noted a cringe from the blonde before the other Warden patted his arm softly. "The lords just keep sending me **more** of them – it's decent pay with little expectations… and they get to wear a uniform… and so now I have a legion of bastards to protect the market from pick-pocketing, stabbings and what not." He cleared his throat, watching as the large blonde Warden turned away at his use of the word bastard. "Arl Howe's specially picked lot, being the worst of the bunch."

"The Arl and I have a… rich **history** you could say…" Elissa muttered, trying to give a convincing smile over her gritting teeth. "I'd be curious to hear more about these men he's been sending you."

"Well, with the stupid bastards all I have to worry about is dicing, the odd bit of drool, or that I might yell at them too loudly and hurt their poor feelings resulting in my being chewed out by their noble fathers." Kylon groused, crossing his arms angrily as he thought on it. "But the Arl's men… now they are more criminal than the miscreants we occasionally arrest! Hell, some of them **are** the criminals we have to arrest! It's put me in the position where I have to tell the people of the city if their lifeblood isn't draining into the gutter as we speak, then it's really just a waste of their time to report it."

"Perhaps I can help…" Elissa offered, waving off the flutter of complaints from her companions. "**Not** at the moment, as I have urgent business to attend to, but when my travels bring me back to the city I could lend a hand?"

"What? Are you serious?" the Sergeant laughed, relaxing his pose when he realized she was. "I mean, yes… yes I could use help. I got a pretty popular establishment that's crawling with mercenaries. If I send my boys in, someone might get – Maker forbid – **hurt**, and then I'll have to explain to Lord-such-and-such that being a guard **is**, in fact, dangerous."

"What is the name of this establishment?" Elissa asked, anxious to get the details and move on.

"It's called the Pearl…" Kylon began.

"The whorehouse?" Elissa asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"You know of it?" the Sergeant chuckled, raising an eyebrow in return. "Well… now, isn't that interesting…" he noted that several of her companions seemed to agree with that assessment before continuing. "I need you to go there and beat down any mercenaries that might be lingering, send them a message. Now I said beat down, **not** kill. Let me make that really clear," he stressed, watching her eyes flash something that she quickly hid back below before he could put a name on it. "Don't set them on fire, or explode them, or any other type of grisly death Maker knows you could dream up." He realized he'd gone too far when she began to tap her toe in irritation. "Sorry… used to giving orders to my incompetent boys. Just leave them alive, that's all I'm saying."

"I'll pop in when I can, and let you know when it's been taken care of," she agreed, shaking his hand and moving to take her leave.

"Thank you, Warden." Kylon whispered. "Happy hunting…"

* * *

><p>The knowledge that they would be virtually unhindered by the city guard who had their hands full with more pressing issues, made it easy for them to take a more direct route through the market district and into Genitivi's home. A short, dark-haired man paced about inside – turning to them hurriedly as they came through the door.<p>

"Yes? What are you doing here?" the man asked, tilting his chin up in accusation.

"I am looking for Brother Genitivi." Elissa explained, looking at him suspiciously for his behavior was shaky and unusual.

"Brother Genitivi? Why?" the man replied, his eyes narrowing as he looked over the group standing before him.

"I shall make my purpose known to Genitivi and no other." Elissa answered, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at him rigid in her purpose.

"Then I am afraid you will leave with your purpose unfulfilled," the man retorted, crossing his own arms. "I am his assistant, Weylon. I haven't seen Brother Genitivi in weeks. He sends no word, which is quite unlike him. I grow afraid something has happened to him. His research into the Urn is likely to have led him into danger."

"Why would searching for a ridiculous relic that probably doesn't even exist be dangerous?" Elissa asked, snorting derisively at his assertion.

"Ah, a **non-believer**, I see." Weylon said, looking at her with disgust. "Perhaps the Urn was merely **lost**, and with reason…" he turned his attention to her companions, trying to press his story further. "I pray every day for his safety, but my hope dwindles as more time passes. I-I tried to send help, but some knights from Redcliffe came looking for him not long ago. I sent them after Genitivi, and now, they too have disappeared…"

"If you don't know where he is and have received no word of his condition, then how do you know that the knights have also disappeared?" Elissa asked, suddenly very suspicious as the holes in the story he was weaving became more and more evident.

"Well, they… haven't returned – and they have sent no word either!" the man finally managed to sputter out.

"Why on earth would they send word to you?" Elissa huffed, shaking her head at him. "From your explanation of things, these men hardly knew you."

"I… I don't know… I suppose they wouldn't." Weylon admitted, looking away sheepishly then turning back in anger. "But after what happened to Genitivi, can you blame me for assuming the knights had suffered the same fate? Perhaps I am a pessimist… I hope I am wrong."

"So, where did they go?" Elissa asked, attempting to maintain some amount of civility while the man continued to toss lie after lie in her face.

"No, don't ask me where they went," the man insisted, shaking his head. "You'll go after them, and what if ill-luck befell you too? This search is a curse on all who take it up. Some things are not meant to be found. I know that now."

"I am willing to risk it." Elissa insisted, her tone losing most of its softness. "Tell me where he went."

"So be it." Weylon said, fluttering his hands about in a huff and going to retrieve a map for her. "He said he would be staying at an inn near Lake Calenhad, investigating something in the area."

"What exactly was he investigating?" Elissa asked, inspecting the map he had given her then passing it to Alistair so that he could plot their course.

"I don't know," the man insisted. "All I learned from going through his research was that he was staying at **that** inn."

"From going through his research… but you just said you **spoke** to him and he told you about the inn?" Elissa said, eyes fully narrowed now as she caught him in his lies. "Which is it then?"

"He **told** me, and then I went through his things to see if I could find other clues about what he was investigating." Weylon said, trying desperately to cover his tracks as his web of lies unraveled.

"You sound nervous, Weylon." Elissa said, her voice going sickly sweet though the glitter in her eyes betrayed it. "Are you hiding something?"

"N-no! I told you everything I know," the man insisted, backing away from her as she moved toward him – stumbling as he bumped against the table. "Brother Genitivi told us… told m-me about the inn, and that's all!"

"Us? Who's **us**?" Elissa pressed, worrying at the man like a mabari at a bone.

"Us? I mean me… T-there is no us… Bah! Why do I keep up this charade?" he asked, suddenly reaching to grab the sword that had been lying discarded on the table at his side. "I gave you a chance to turn aside and forget you ever heard of Genitivi, but you persisted. What happens now is on **your** head! Remember that!"

The man was no fighter, that much was clear from the ease with which he was disarmed and dispatched by Sten after Elissa dodged his initial blow. With a bit more careful inspection of Genitivi's home, they soon had all the information they needed to find the inn he'd last been seen at, and a working idea of what he'd gone after.

They also knew that the man they'd just put down was **not** his assistant Weylon, as the real Weylon's body lay rotting in a back room. A bit unsettled but still focused on their task, Elissa shuffled the group out of Genitivi's home and toward the gates of the city. She'd just about gotten them through it when a young boy came running up behind her, grabbing her hand and bringing her to a halt.

"Message for you, m'lady," the boy said, pressing something into her hand.

"Wha…" Elissa began; unable to finish when the boy turned and started to run the other way.

"More things to deliver! Goodbye," he called back over his shoulder, leaving a very confused Elissa to unwrap her missive and give it a look.

"Looks like we aren't leaving quite yet." Elissa sighed, rubbing at her brow before handing the missive over to Zevran, ignoring the look Alistair shot her when he was passed over in favor of the elf – knowing he would understand the moment the elf answered her question. "That name mean anything to you?"

"Master Ignacio… ah, I should have known…" Zevran smirked, passing the missive back to her and watching as she stuffed it into her pack and moved off toward the Gnawed Noble. "Proceed with caution, my dear Warden…"

"I always do, Zevran… I always do…" she laughed, watching as he fell in beside her, leaving Alistair trailing slightly behind.

* * *

><p>Elissa was tired, and out of patience. She knew it was dangerous to linger in Denerim, regardless of how little the city guard cared for Howe's bounty on her head, and wanted nothing more than to be out of the city and on her way to Soldier's Peak to replenish their supplies before pressing forward toward Haven. It was for this reason she was less than polite as she barreled into Ignacio's room, full company in tow.<p>

"Ah, I see you have come about my note," the man said, unphased by her abrupt entry or the large group of armed companions clustered behind her. "Perhaps there are some **things** we can talk about…"

"Just see the conversation stays civil!" Zevran warned, fingers lingering on the small throwing knife at his hip as he pressed close to Elissa. "If this is a trap…"

"Zevran, is it?" Ignacio said, sneering at the elf. "You are Taliesin's responsibility. Other Crows may try to kill you, but in my eyes, you are already dead – so you are of no notice." He spared the elf no more time before turning back to Elissa. "But the Warden here… she is of **great** interest to me."

"You were hired to kill me, I would think your interest began and ended in the bounty on my head." Elissa replied, crossing her arms and glaring at the man.

"I cannot stress enough that **I** was not hired to do anything." Ignacio insisted, shaking his head and glaring again at Zevran. "An… **associate** was hired for that job, and he failed – and failed badly."

"I'd like to see you do any better!" Zevran hissed, taking a step forward before Elissa stopped him by wrapping an arm across his chest – he relaxed quickly, enjoying the contact and the glare it warranted from the Templar.

"Do you take me for a fool? That's a contract I'd never have taken!" Ignacio chuckled, clearing his throat and moving back to his original point. "A client can always hire more… help, if the job isn't done properly the first time… but I'm hoping we can make sure that doesn't need to happen."

"Zevran, is this true?" Elissa asked, turning her face to the elf who had now taken the hand of the arm she'd wrapped across him and was toying languidly with her finger tips.

"I've heard of only one time the entire House of Crows was hired for a job." Zevran admitted, rubbing at the inside of her arm with his other hand as he moved his glance between Ignacio and his Warden companion. "A princely sum changed hands and an entire noble family died, not one soul survived. I suppose Ignacio has the right of it… generally it is one master, one job."

"All right, I'm listening…" Elissa said, turning her attention back to Master Ignacio.

"Ferelden is a busy place… Blight, Civil War, other… mayhem…" Ignacio explained, waving his hands about theatrically. "Lots of people not getting along… and sometimes, maybe they **really** don't get along. Maybe they want to do something about it…" he grinned at her conspiratorially. "The people that handle that sort of thing can get very… busy."

"So you're looking to hire help? Is that what this is?" Elissa asked, raising an eyebrow at him curiously – and feeling the rumble of laughter roll through Zevran's chest where it pressed against her arm.

"You could say that… not many people we could turn to…" Ignacio replied, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "Perhaps someone who has crossed our path and lived… maybe they could help out… make some extra coin. Everyone wins."

"And, say this someone who survived were interested in making some coin… how would that sort of thing work, exactly?" Elissa inquired, playing her hand the way he had dealt it – full of metaphor and innuendo.

"I hand you a scroll, you read it, learn about something… interesting." Ignacio began, pacing a bit as he wove his offer. "If you discover something… happens to the individual you've learned about, something… unfortunate… then we would speak again, and I would give you coin for _letting me know_," he explained, winding his long fingers together. "You don't like what's on the scroll… you don't do anything. Maybe he has an accident that someone else tells me about."

"If I do this for you, I want **no** more Crows after me." Elissa insisted, narrowing her eyes on him. "**And **I want them called off Alistair and Zevran as well."

"That I cannot do." Ignacio said, shaking his head – and noting the look of surprise that passed over the elf's face when she had inadvertently asked for his freedom – though she did not notice it. "Another master has a contract on you and your fellow Warden, and a separate one on your assassin, and the contracts of another master are something I cannot interfere with." He watched her sigh in frustration, and knew he was losing his opportunity. "But… if you help us out, maybe those masters ask us for help in completing these contracts and gets… silence…"

"I think we can let the innuendo die now, Ignacio." Elissa sighed, having long ago lost patience with the metaphor. "We both know what this is about."

"You can never be too careful…" Ignacio huffed, crossing his arms. "Can you blame me for being circumspect?"

"Just give me the damn scroll." Elissa hissed, holding out her hand and shushing Alistair before he could fully begin to complain.

"There you go." Ignacio said, smiling as he laid it in her hand. "Makes for fine reading."

"You are a cautious little weasel, Ignacio… what's your angle?" Zevran wondered aloud, inspecting the scroll in Elissa's hand over her shoulder. "If you're playing us false…"

"My dance is not for you!" Ignacio hissed, glaring at Zevran who simply smiled in response as he continued to stroke at Elissa's arm. "I need to be real… honest sometimes. And, I can say I haven't asked anyone to do anything. I only gave someone something interesting to read."

"And you think that will save your hide when someone finally nails it to a wall?" Zevran laughed, rolling his eyes.

"I said that you're already dead in my eyes, **whoreson**." Ignacio spat, glaring at Zevran. "Take care that I don't **learn** otherwise. Now… it appears your mistress has accepted my literature, so, if that is all… then you should be going."

Elissa nodded, pulling her arm loose from Zevran's grip and moving through her group out into the hall. Alistair's footfalls were heavy as he made his way to her side, and she could feel the irritation radiating off him as he glared at the assassin.

"So now we're taking out contracts for the Antivan Crows?" Alistair hissed, glaring at her.

"If it makes you feel better, I don't intend to have you be a part of it." Elissa retorted, tucking the scroll away. "If I can get the bounty off our heads then I have to do it, Alistair. Just don't ask where I'm going if I disappear for awhile and you can continue to sleep with a clean conscience."

"You expect me to just let you wander off to **kill** people, Elissa," he yelled, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a standstill. "What if you don't come back?"

"I won't go alone," she replied, the slight movement of her eyes to the elf telling him everything he needed to know about her choice of companionship for these activities.

"You don't have to **do** this Elissa." Alistair begged, pressing down the anger that welled up in him at the bond he could already see forming between the two rogues. "We've managed this long with a price on our heads, we can…"

"They are going to **kill** you, Alistair – why do you refuse to see that?" Elissa screamed, shoving him so hard that he slammed against the wall of the inn and knocked a painting loose from it. "I don't **care** if they catch me, Howe will find a way in the end… I've come to terms with that… but you… if anything happened to you I'd…. I-I'd…" He reached out for her, but she pulled away. "I can't take the chance. Don't come with me if you want, keep your hands clean, but I **won't** gamble with your life. I love you too much."

With that she stormed away, pushing the door to the inn open in her frustration, and barreling out into the street with the assassin hot on her heels. Alistair stood in stunned silence for a while before gathering himself enough to follow behind the rest of his companions who were already headed out the door.

Elissa had nearly run down the man seeking entry to the tavern she had been so furious as she'd left it. She had been so upset, she hadn't even bothered to toss an apology – noting that Zevran tossed him a companionable nod.

"Another **friend**?" she growled, her jaw tense in frustration as the elf slid an arm around her shoulder.

"No one important," he replied, steering them toward the main gates and out onto the road where they would make their way to Soldier's Peak.


	26. Chapter 26: Within Reach

**_Disclaimer_**_: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** Thanks to all my readers, followers and my Lady Beta **artemiskat**._

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter Twenty-Six: Within Reach<span>**  
><em>

It became clear to Nathaniel as he made his way through the city of Denerim, that he was going to have to be exceptionally cautious with his every move. The city was crawling with his father's men, and any one of them would know him on sight and report his presence to the Arl before Nathaniel was ready to be known.

He'd made an attempt to get close to the Howe family compound, but that had been no use, and would have apparently gotten him no closer to finding his father as word among the guards was that Loghain had given Arlship of the city to him with the unfortunate demise of the previous Arl and the dishonorable behavior of his son, Vaughn.

With that knowledge, Nathaniel sat out toward the Arl's estate in the city – knowing it was a fool's errand, but wanting to at least get an idea of what he was up against. He barely got a few blocks before he stumbled across the very person whom he had come to the city in search of.

"My Lord… I-I bring word from the Antivan Crows…" the messenger stuttered, trailing along after his father who strode purposefully through the streets, leaving Nathaniel diving into the shadows of a nearby alley to avoid detection.

"I will assume, as I have no head on a pike or new bodies in the dungeons that the assassin has failed at his assignment…" Arl Howe growled between clenched teeth, coming to an abrupt stop and spinning on the messenger in anger.

"Y-yes, my Lord…" the messenger explained, trembling slightly. "The Wardens have evaded death a-and capture, and it appears that the young lady has somehow recruited the assassin to her c-cause."

"Has she indeed?" Howe chuckled, smiling appreciatively. "Touché, darling girl, touché… it appears you are going to be much more exciting than even I could have imagined…" The look that came over his father's face then made Nathaniel cringe, it was cruelty and lust wound together into something hideous – and it was nothing Nathaniel had ever seen before. "Boy, go back to the Crows, have them send another man… no, **several** of their best men to my estate… I'll have her yet…"

His cruel laughter echoed down the alleyway, long after both he and the messenger had disappeared – leaving Nathaniel unable to move as he thought about what he had heard. He felt, sick… he didn't know what to think. His father seemed off, and downright obsessed with – at the very least – the female Warden who had managed to elude him, and even to turn her would be assassin to her cause.

He had come to Denerim seeking answers, and had found only more questions. He needed more time to think, to process – before he could decide on his next move, and so he headed to the nearest bar – hoping to lose himself in the crowd of patrons, and perhaps a mug… or **several** mugs of ale.

Before he could enter the door, it slammed open in front of him… and, as was becoming a frighteningly frequent occurrence in his travels, someone stormed out of it. He dipped to the side quickly, making certain to avoid being seen should the angry patron be someone who knew his father and would recognize his face. While he hadn't been able to make out the woman who'd already brushed by, he instantly recognized the elf that trailed out behind her.

The assassin smiled at him, tossing a casual nod of recognition before jogging to the woman's side, and draping a graceful arm around her shoulders.

_The Warden…_ he thought, watching the sway of her hips and the way the assassin lingered close to her as he whispered in her ear. _Well… that explains what swayed him to her cause…_

He thought about warning her what the elf that hung off her like a cloak was up to, that **more** like him were coming… but when the rest of her company flowed out through the doors, he realized she probably had more than enough people looking out for her. What use was one more?


	27. Chapter 27: A Loss of Innocence

**_Disclaimer_**_: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N: WARNING! **The first half of this chapter is definitely **NSFW**. You have been warned!_

_That having been said, this is the first "actual" sex scene I've written out - so hopefully it's not too horrid. It's not too vulgar, but it is definitely more on the mature end than anything prior to this point in either of my stories - so make note of that before you choose to proceed._

_Alistair & Elissa's song for this chapter: Not Alone by Red._

_Nathaniel's song for the portion where she's thinking back on things: Ghost by eastmountainsouth.  
><em>

_Thanks as usual to my readers, followers and reviewers :) And to my fabulous Lady Beta **artemiskat**. _

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter Twenty-Seven: A Loss of Innocence<span>**  
><em>

When the spires of Soldier's Peak finally came into view, Elissa was thrilled – and filled with a sudden burst of energy that carried her sprinting up the hill and into the courtyard. She wrapped her arms around her warhound when he bounded out to meet them, licking at her face before moving over to each of her companions in turn – making sure to sniff out the new additions until they met his approval.

She was **so** excited to be back in their newly claimed home, she even hugged Bodahn and Levi – the latter vendor blushing profusely before dragging her over to meet his relatives who had set up in the Peak and begun work to repair and replenish the great castle.

After visiting with them a moment, she escorted Wynne and Zevran inside – encouraging them each to pick their own rooms among those that had not yet been claimed – and chuckling when Zevran voiced his disappointment that none remained on Elissa's hall.

"I suppose I'll have to settle for spying on the bard," he said with a wink, scampering off to find the room that Leliana had chosen long before.

Alistair tried to subtly encourage her to eat or rest, or even bathe… anything to get her alone in a room and away from the infuriating assassin who continued to pop up when they least expected - and when he least wanted.

She seemed to think the bath was a great idea, and begged him to draw her some water and ask Morrigan to warm it with a fire spell while she went to speak with Avernus about the changes she had been experiencing. Alistair didn't like the idea of her gallivanting off to the tower alone, and insisted that Sten escort her just in case the creepy old mage thought to try something... but he understood that no one else could help her to wrap her mind around what was happening to her as her body processed the powers his potion had unlocked within her blood.

When she returned from her discussion with the mage, she was thrilled to find that Alistair had done exactly as she asked, and wrapped her arms around him furiously – the hard chain of her armor rubbing against him unpleasantly as he had shed his own plate for more comfortable clothing long ago. She apologized, and encouraged him to finish moving all storable items into her old room while she had a quick bath.

As they had become closer and stopped sleeping separately, they'd discussed sharing a room when they returned to the Peak – and as Alistair's quarters had been substantially larger than Elissa's book filled ones, they had decided to turn her room into storage for any non-essentials while using his room as a living quarters.

Elissa splashed away in the tub, humming and calling out silly thoughts to him every now and then as he moved between the two rooms – and he tried very hard not to think about her wet and naked behind the little privacy screen in the corner. He became so distracted by his increasingly more gutter bound thoughts, he eventually left the door ajar, and returned to find a squealing Elissa yelling curses at the assassin and shoving him roughly out the door.

"Out, **out** you naughty elf!" Elissa yelped, chuckling as her bare arm snaked out the door with a rough shove to the assassin's back. "We shall speak again after I've bathed and dressed and had a proper night's sleep and not a second before!"

He shrugged, tossing a wink to Alistair who glared daggers at him before moving inside their room – shutting and locking the door behind him.

"I'm sorry… I must have left the door open," he said sheepishly, watching as she tugged her small clothes up her long legs and settled them in place, giving Alistair a small flash of her hip and leaving her long legs completely bare beneath the blue tunic she always wore to sleep in.

"It's alright…" she chuckled, moving over to sit at the vanity and brush the tangles out of her long thick hair. "If Zevran were really intent on seeing me naked he would have picked the lock regardless… as it was, all he got was a flash of the same thing you're seeing – though, you **did** watch me put on my underthings so I suppose you got a bit more."

"Still… the idea that he'd even **try** to…" Alistair began, his voice growing angry as he thought about the assassin's eyes on her bare skin – **any** part of it.

"The man's a flirt, Alistair, there's no way around it – and you're going to have to adjust if we're to travel together in a civilized fashion." Elissa sighed, her eyes catching his in the mirror for a second before she went back to work on her hair. "Besides, for all intensive purposes **we** just moved in together, and I'm sitting here with scandalously bare legs all alone with **you**. Do you really think you need to envy Zevran for getting a small glimpse of bare skin?"

"I s-suppose not…" he managed to stutter out, glancing over at her long legs again and taking in a deep breath – trying to gather all the courage he could manage. "A-and speaking of bare skin… I-I… Maker, I guess I really don't know how to ask you this…"

"Alistair, what…" she started, looking at him in the mirror then spinning around when she saw the look on his face. "Are you **sweating**?"

"**No**!" Alistair snapped, running his fingers through his hair and starting to pace. "I mean **yes**… I mean… I-I'm a little nervous, sure. Not that this is anything **bad**, or frightening or… well, yes…" He could see the terror in her face when he took the chance to look at her again, he could tell the wheels in her mind had her going down any number of roads they shouldn't and so he moved toward her, taking the brush out of her hand and laying it gently down on the dresser behind her before kneeling down and taking her hands in his own. "Ugh… how do I say this? You'd think it would be easier considering all the time we've spent together… all the things we've said… but, every time I'm around you, I feel as though my head's about to explode. I-I can't think straight."

"Oh? Thanks a lot!" Elissa snipped, pulling her hands from his and crossing her arms protectively over her chest.

"N-no! I don't mean it like **that**! I mean…" he said, reaching for her hands and finally getting her to release them to him again. "Let me start over… Being near you makes me **crazy**, but I can't imagine being without you. Not ever." He watched her face soften, and a smile start to pull at the corners of her lips. "I don't know how to say this another way… I-I want to make love with you, here, tonight. I know I said I wanted to wait… and maybe this is too fast, I don't know… but I know what I feel."

"You want t-to… make love?" she asked, eyes gone wide in surprise. "Are you certain?"

"I wanted to wait for the perfect time, the perfect place… but when will it ever be perfect? If the world were a perfect place, we'd never have even met." Alistair said, reaching up to cradle her face in his hands. "We sort of… stumbled into each other, and despite this being the **least** perfect time… I still found myself falling for you, in between all the fighting and everything else." Her eyes glittered with passion and affection and he pushed himself forward before he lost himself in their emerald depths. "I really don't want to wait anymore, Elissa. I've… I've never done this before, you know that. And I want my first time… and every time after as far as I'm concerned, to be with you – so let's do it, now – while we have the chance… in case…"

"Don't talk like that!" Elissa insisted, tugging him against her – her grip forcing his hands to drop to her bare hips where her legs rested on either side of him. "There will always be time later."

"Will there?" he asked, leaning forward – brushing his lips lightly across hers then pulling back. "You don't know that. I don't know that. And if I die tomorrow... I'd like to be able to say I threw caution to the wind just this once…"

"If this is **really** what you want… then I cannot deny that I have… desired this for some time now…" she whispered, managing to push words out as her breathing deepened from the kisses Alistair was now trailing down her neck.

"This is what I want…" he mumbled against the skin of her neck, breathing in the scent of her as her fingers curled in his hair. "I have wanted it for some time, I-I just couldn't bring myself to act…"

She couldn't stand it anymore, she needed to feel his skin – and so she pushed him back for a moment, tugging his tunic up and over his head – tossing it unceremoniously to the floor before leaning forward and running her hands along his bare chest appreciatively.

"You really are stunning…" Elissa muttered, listening to the soft moans her hands could bring out of him just touching his skin.

"That c-certainly isn't a word I would ever have chosen to describe myself…" Alistair chuckled, running his hands up and under the bottom of her shirt and helping to tug it over her head – tossing it down with his own. "You, on the other hand…" His eyes made their way over the pale skin of her torso – he had not known it when he had hastily pulled her shirt aside, but she had not put on her breast band after her bath so now her upper body was completely exposed to him... except for one thing... "Can we… take this off?" he asked, his eyes falling upon the leather cord that held a ring he now knew to be a reminder of another man. "Maybe it's silly, but I can't help feeling that somehow this puts him between us… and I'd rather not have him there right now, if that's alright…"

"Of course," she said, understanding his request and smiling gently as she tugged the necklace that held Nathaniel's signet over her head and tossed it onto the dresser behind her – turning her full attention back to the man kneeling before her staring hesitantly as though he couldn't quite decide what to do. "You **can** touch me, Alistair…" she reassured him, reaching forward to take his battle calloused palms and place them on the sensitive skin of her breasts, her back arching into his touch when he began to fully explore the weight of them. "Oh, Maker…"

He kissed her then, barely able to restrain his passion – gripping the firm flesh of her bosom in the palm of one hand while he plundered her mouth with his tongue. Her nails dug into his back when his body thrust itself naturally against the warmth of her pelvis.

"Bed… now…" she whispered, her voice deep and broken with desire – and he obliged her, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding to one thigh as he lifted her and turned them to the bed behind him – laying her back gently and climbing on with her.

He could feel her hands trailing down to his waistband as he kissed her, felt her thumbs dip inside and push at the edge of his pants and then his small clothes – and so he lifted his hips and allowed her to rid him of the offending garments, leaving him completely exposed to her lingering gaze.

Her eyes widened when she finally saw him, and she smiled, kissing him again as she reached a tentative hand over and wrapped her fingers around his length.

"Andraste's grace, Elissa," he spat, unable to control his hips as they bucked him into her grip. "Be careful with that… I-I don't want to finish before we've even begun."

"All right," she chuckled, reluctantly releasing him and letting him slide her small clothes down her long legs, looking at last upon her fully naked body.

He settled himself beside her, kissing her languidly as he slid his hand up her thigh and into the nest of red curls between them. When he reached his destination, he found her slick with her own juices – and the knowledge of that along with the soft moan in his mouth when he slid a finger inside her, almost had him undone all over again.

He didn't know a lot about sex – the Chantry hadn't done much to teach that particular subject matter, but he knew enough to understand that a woman's first time could be quite painful were time not given to her preparation – and so he made an effort to ensure that Elissa was ready, sliding first one and then a second digit into her warmth and attempting to help her to accommodate him once he moved to be inside her fully.

Elissa could not deny that his touch felt wonderful, but Alistair never quite hit the one spot she ached for him to touch. She knew that he was inexperienced - even more so than she, and quick to shy away if he felt unworthy in the face of criticism – constructive or otherwise. For that reason, she would not come out and say or offer her own hand to guide him to the right spot. She assumed he would eventually find it on his own, but he did not – and so when he moved himself into position and pressed forward into her, she was not prepared for the pain that followed.

Nathaniel had warned her that it would hurt in the curious banter of her youth, and so she had prepared herself for an ache or a quick tear as her maidenhead gave way to allow Alistair access – she knew these things must happen for him to be with her in the way they both wanted him to be – but this… **this** was agony. There was no pleasure in this, it burned and stabbed at her and she had to fight down the urge to shove him away, to pull him back out of her as quickly as possible.

He instantly recognized her discomfort, she could see her own agony reflected in his face knowing that he was bringing her any kind of pain.

"E-Elissa…" he managed, pushing his own pleasure down and trying to focus on what could be done to get her past this unfortunate hurdle in their lovemaking. "Tell me what you need for me to do…"

"H-hold still a second…" she managed to get out between clenched teeth, trying to focus on her breathing – on willing the pain to pass. "Give my body a second to adj…" and then, as she tried to form the words – she felt it happen, the last vestiges of her maidenhead gave way and allowed him to seat himself fully inside her. "Oh… **oh**…" she moaned, arching her back as the pain was replaced by a huge wave of pleasure.

"Dear Maker I…" Alistair groaned, nearly falling over when he sank further in – feeling her legs wrap around his back and her fingers curl around his biceps when her body curved against his own.

He started moving then, unable to control it – his eyes locking onto hers, their moans blending together into a symphony of pleasure as they moved through the motions of this new dance together. He tried to hold on, to slow himself, but he lost control quickly – Elissa writhing beneath him, frantically calling out his name, sucking at his neck until he felt the tension at the base of his spine peak and release – sending him pouring into her body.

When he pulled out of her and rolled to the side, he knew that though she had clearly enjoyed herself once the pain had passed – she had not finished the same way he had.

"I'm sorry, Elissa…I-I couldn't…" he started, ignoring her when she tried to silence him with encouraging kisses.

"It's okay, Alistair… there will be other times," she chuckled, stroking his back.

"No, let me do this for you…" Alistair insisted, holding her eyes so she knew that he understood what he was requesting. "I want you to get the same release from this that I did… and I **know** I can give it to you, I just need a little guidance."

She said nothing, simply smiled softly – kissing him sensuously as she trailed his hand down her body and nestled it back between her legs – pressing her finger over his to guide his touch as she rubbed insistently at the little bud of flesh he'd somehow managed to miss in his earlier explorations. Once he became more certain of his course, she moved her hands away – allowing herself to enjoy the touch of his skin and to lose herself in his gentle caresses and soft kisses as he pushed her over the edge.

"Oh… oh… yes, Alistair… oh **yes**!" she cried out, fingers gripping tightly to the bed sheet as her entire body arched in the wave of her orgasm.

He curled in beside her when she finally relaxed, smiling an equally pleased smile right back at her while she kissed lazily at his chest where her face lay against it.

"You know, according to all the sisters at the monastery… I should have been struck by lightning by now." Alistair chuckled, trailing a finger along her bare hip and delighting in the idea that she lay naked beside him.

"Is that so?" Elissa laughed, kissing his chest again – and splaying her hand out across the tight muscles of his stomach.

"Yep, lightning first… then the end of civilization as we know it," he continued, flipping over so that he could lie facing her – stroking down the swell of her breast and onto the flat plane of her abdomen. "I'm a bad… **bad**… man," he punctuated each word with a kiss, pulling back finally as something serious crossed his mind. "Of course, as I'm **certain** the entire castle just heard all that moaning you were doing…" He laughed when she swatted at him. "You must know that our little party is going to… talk… they do that, you know?"

"First smart comment and I feed them to the nearest darkspawn," she retorted, kissing him heartily and chuckling deep in her chest.

"See! This is why I love you." Alistair laughed, kissing her thoroughly enough to increase the pace of her breathing again – and feeling his own pulse increase but not wanting to pressure her into another go so quickly, he cleared his throat and changed the subject. "So, what now, armor polishing – a little light reading – perhaps a snack?"

"Well… considering we have a full schedule ahead of us what with the whole ashes of Andraste to retrieve and save your uncle debacle… we should probably try to go to sleep." Elissa chuckled, stroking lightly at his back.

"You're so practical… you make me proud," he said, kissing her neck and hearing her draw in a deep breath beneath him. "All right, I get the hint. We have a lot to do, and we should get some rest so we can do it." He pulled back the blankets and crawled underneath them, waiting for her to tuck in next to him before he allowed them to fall back in place. "I **do** love you Elissa – I hope you know how much I mean that."

"I love you too, Alistair," she replied, snuggling into the warmth of the man who had somehow, in spite of everything stacked against them, managed to lay claim to her heart.

* * *

><p>When Elissa woke, it was shaking in the aftermath of a horrible dream. The Fade had offered her no respite that night – instead Nathaniel was waiting for her – pain and anger warring on his chiseled features as he accused her of betraying her oath to save herself for him and <strong>only<strong> him… to wait forever as she had once promised. He'd damned her to suffer for an eternity, to know no comfort for her sin was against her very soul – she'd often referred to him as such during their time together.

In the moonlight of the room she now shared with Alistair, she knew his accusations were baseless. Nathaniel had been the one to leave, to forfeit the promises they had made to one another. She had the letter to prove it tucked away in her things… and yet, she could not stop herself from feeling guilty.

"Why can't I dream of darkspawn like a proper Warden?" she huffed, pulling herself loose from Alistair's arms carefully so that she did not wake him.

He muttered something in his sleep as she tugged on his shirt and pants, unable to find her own, and rolled over when she grabbed her boots and slowly closed the door – but he did not stir afterward.

She leaned against the door, tugging one boot on – then the other, and tossing her cloak around her shoulders before making her way up onto the ramparts of Soldier's Peak. When she was certain she was alone, she sat – dangling her feet over the edge of the castle walls and pulling the leather cord that held Nathaniel's signet ring over her head where she'd hastily strung it on her way out of her room.

"Am I truly damned, Nathaniel?" she asked aloud, running a thumb over the texture of his family crest as she had a million times before – but finding no comfort in the motion though she had always managed to in the past.

"Speaking to the ghosts of the Peak?" a voice asked her, and out of the corner of her eye she watched the assassin materialize from the shadows – his eyes glittering with his smile inside the hood of the cloak that Leliana had no doubt provided to him.

"How do you know I was not speaking to you?" Elissa replied, pretending she had not been startled or speaking to someone who wasn't there as she tucked the ring into the palm of her hand.

"Because until I revealed myself, you did not know I was here… something we need to work on, my dear Warden, if you are to avoid future assassination attempts – unless, of course, you want that I should place you under **constant** supervision… which I am more than willing to provide." Zevran said, giving her body an appreciative glance as he sat softly beside her – his hip pressing against her own. "Also, my name is not Nathaniel."

"Your hearing is far better than I would like it to be…" she muttered, letting her cloak hide her face in its shadows so that he couldn't see the shame she was certain now etched itself across her features.

"And far poorer than I would prefer," he laughed, reaching over to turn her face back to his with a light thumb on her chin, refusing to allow her to retreat into whatever melancholia he could see beginning to take root. "Come now, such a beautiful woman should not be so sad… especially after sharing a night of passion with a fellow companion."

"Damn it… Alistair said I was loud but I didn't think…" Elissa muttered, blushing furiously. "I'm sorry… I…"

"No, no… no need to apologize – as you said, my hearing is superior." Zevran laughed, smiling at her and tossing a quick wink. "But, seeing you here practically in mourning, does leave me wondering if I should not speak with the Templar about the proper manner in which to please a woman…"

"Oh no! Don't do that!" she insisted, eyes wide in a panic that he would go to Alistair and speak of her behavior. "I don't want him to think that I have broken his confidence by speaking to you of something that I am **certain** he would consider to be very personal… he's sensitive enough about you as it is, and that is likely to push him right over the edge."

"Very well, I will not speak of it… for now," he allowed, crossing his hands delicately in his lap. "On one condition, you tell me who this man is that has you so upset you would rather sit outside in the cold... **alone**... instead of curling up in a warm bed with your lover while you can delight in such luxuries."

"Fine, but you are to speak of this to no one." Elissa insisted, glaring at him when he clearly did not treat her request as serious as she felt it needed to be. "I'm serious, Zevran, not a word!"

"As you wish, my Warden." Zevran said, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Nathaniel was… my betrothed, long ago," she explained, looking up at the sky – remembering the morning on the ramparts when they'd kissed each other senseless.

"The ring is his then?" the assassin asked, nodding his head toward her fisted hand – which she opened, allowing him to retrieve the trinket that lay inside it.

"Yes… I lost him… rather, he ended our relationship some time ago, but I kept his ring anyway." Elissa tried to explain, watching as Zevran turned it over in his palm – inspecting the metal carefully and pausing when he recognized the Howe crest. "I guess a part of me wasn't ready to let go."

"And now?" Zevran asked, turning a curious eye to her face.

"I'm trying," she said, sighing heavily. "I honestly am… but… this sounds crazy, I **know** it does… but it's like he's haunting me – I hear his voice, smell him, even think I see him sometimes – even though it's impossible. It feels like I'm going mad."

"Would you like some advice?" the elf asked, watching her turn slowly to inspect him – her face softening when she realized he was not looking at her in judgment – only in concern – he continued with her quiet nod. "Happiness is fleeting, and if your Templar gives it to you – as I get the impression that he does, then you should enjoy every moment of that without having it overshadowed by the guilt of something that was not, and will never be." Her face fell for a moment, but he pressed forward – reaching to put the ring back into her hand and fold her fingers closed around it once again. "Take this trinket, and tuck it away with the rest of your memories. It is poison in your wound, my Warden. It keeps you from healing, from moving on beyond the pain of your scars. Until you purge it from your system – you will not be able to be truly happy with Alistair, or with anyone."

"You're right…" Elissa said, pressing her eyes closed. "It's time." She leaned over and pressed a light kiss on the assassin's cheek, then got to her feet and moved back to the door that would lead her back inside. "Thank you, Zevran."

"I told you, my dear Warden, I'm your man – however you need me," the assassin replied, smiling at her as she pulled the door shut again – waiting until her footfalls proved her long out of earshot before he spoke once more. "You can come out now, Morrigan, I know you are no raven."

"Surprising," the witch said, shifting quickly from her bird form and sashaying over to lean on the wall beside him as he pulled up to his feet. "'Tis unusual for anyone other than a high level mage to detect me."

"I am a trained assassin, my lady, my senses are not that of the average passerby." Zevran chuckled, smirking at her. "I'm also fairly certain, had she not been otherwise distracted, Elissa most certainly would have noticed you perched there on the rooftop eavesdropping… speaking of which, how much did you hear?"

"Enough to know that she is uncertain of the Templar even after allowing the fool to bed her." Morrigan chortled, taking a great deal of satisfaction in the idea that Elissa might toss the simpleton aside after all. "I thought I was going to have to encourage you to break that nonsense apart, but I'm more than happy to let the ghost of a lost love do it instead."

"You would not wish such heartache upon her were you truly the friend you claimed to be," the elf insisted, his usual playful banter taking on a harder edge so that he could get his point across. "Encourage me, encourage her to find another who meets your higher standards – certainly, but let that ghost fall silent – it will be better for us all."

"What did you learn elf?" the witch insisted, glaring at him when she realized he was holding something back. "I have heard her mention this Nathaniel before, but nothing she said has given me cause to think him damaging to her… but you, I saw the look on your face when you inspected that trinket she toys with, what have you discovered? Tell me, I demand it."

"I'm not sure when you earned the right to demand anything of me, swamp witch." Zevran spat, watching her body start to crackle with mystical energy as her anger flared with his words. "However, as we are both only out to protect her – I see no reason why I shouldn't share the knowledge I have gathered." She relaxed, tilting her head to encourage him to hurry and spit it out. "That trinket she carries is a ring, a **signet** ring – and the seal pressed into it belongs to the house of Howe."

"As in Arl Rendon Howe? The man who seeks to claim her and kill the Templar?" Morrigan hissed, her jaw going slack in surprise.

"The very same," the assassin replied, happy to see that the witch was drawing the same conclusions he had drawn as soon the moment he had recognized the crest pressed into the silver at his fingertips.

"I wonder, does the idiot know of this?" the witch pondered, tapping at her chin.

"Were I the betting sort, I would wager that he does." Zevran replied, making his way back toward the door. "Though, I doubt he knows how deep her obsession with the memory of him still goes."

"If he does not, then 'tis only a matter of time until he does." Morrigan snorted, crossing her arms in disgust. "The man is stupid in a great variety of subjects, but he reads Elissa quite well – and would no more prefer to share her affections with a memory than with another more present potential suitor."

"Then, we should hope that our Warden does as I have suggested and lets the past fall silent," the assassin said, holding Morrigan's gaze intently. "If this were to blow up, we would have two useless Wardens and be facing a Blight and a Civil War on our own – and I don't like those odds one bit."

As she watched him disappear into the castle, Morrigan reluctantly had to agree. One way or another they would have to push Elissa to let go of her past with the Arl's son and move forward, even if it was into the arms of the one person on this earth the witch could not stand.


	28. Chapter 28: Haven or Hell?

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** Muse tune for this chapter was Blame by Gravity Kills._

_Thanks to all my readers, followers and reviewers! And to my faithful Lady Beta **artemiskat** who had worked overtime this week while I have been a productive little writer :) _

_Happy Reading to you :) _

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Twenty-Eight: Haven or Hell?<strong>_

When they moved out of Soldier's Peak again, having replenished themselves and their supplies, Elissa eyed Alistair and the Templar's armor she had liberated for him back in the Circle Tower appreciatively. It was lighter weight yet provided far more protection than what he had been wearing, and – most importantly as far as she was concerned – it looked fantastic on him.

"Perhaps talking you into that armor was not the smartest idea I have ever had." Elissa chuckled, leaning in and allowing her lips to graze his ear as she trailed her fingers over the heavy cloth band at his waist with an impish look in her eye. "I had **no** idea just how appealing Templar armor could be…"

"I'm wondering if I should be more worried that I'll lose you to all the other Templars we're likely to encounter… or** for** them as you're likely to scar their delicate sensitivities with your wicked wily ways." Alistair laughed, smirking at her and thinking that he would never have stopped wearing the stuff had he known the effect it would have on her.

"You should worry over neither as my appreciation is **only** for you, my darling," she assured him, kissing his cheek and bounding away to discuss appropriate pathing with Zevran.

He watched her with different eyes under the light of day, wondering if he looked as different as she did after what had transpired between them. She practically radiated joy, and – he noticed with both relief and surprise – that the leather cord she once wore to hold her former love's ring, did** not** reappear on her neck as he believed it would when they got dressed that morning. Instead she had tucked it away inside a small wooden box in her pack among the rest of the mementos she had managed to salvage in her escape from Highever.

"Draw your weapon." Sten said calmly, causing Alistair to jump slightly as he strode up beside him - he was remarkably stealthy to be so large.

"A-are you talking to me?" Alistair asked, clutching at his chest for a moment in the aftermath of the shock he'd gotten from the qunari's sudden approach.

"Your weapon. Draw it." Sten repeated, looking at the Templar as though he were too simple to understand the request.

"Why? Are we under attack?" Alistair replied, looking around in a panic and waiting for any number of things to come rushing forward from the bushes around them.

"I want to see what you can do." Sten answered, pulling his great sword loose from the thongs that held it anchored at his back.

"Y-you want to fight me?" Alistair gasped, glancing forward to Elissa in a sudden panic – but realizing that she was far too absorbed in her conversation with the assassin and the witch to notice them so far behind her. "Just like that?"

"You are a Grey Warden. How are you going to face an archdemon if you cannot face me?" the qunari postulated, looking at him as though that were a perfectly logical question to ask.

"It is a mystery, I'll admit…" Alistair replied, wondering himself how he planned to accomplish that particular task as they still had yet to discover exactly how one killed an archdemon.

"So, I should let your weakness damn us all? Damn **her**, now that she's foolishly chosen to mate with you?" Sten growled, his violet eyes darting forward to land on Elissa long enough to carry his point to the Templar. "Draw your sword. I'll try not to injure you permanently."

"You're not her father! I don't have to prove anything to you." Alistair said, exasperated as he realized that he was apparently going to be challenged from every possible angle should he continue to pursue his relationship with Elissa. "Forget it. I'll do nothing of the sort."

"So you do have a spine," the qunari responded, almost chuckling as he placed his sword back in its anchor. "Pity you don't use it more often…"

Uncomfortable and suddenly wanting to be anywhere other than where he was, he jogged forward to catch up to Elissa – sparing a quick glare at Morrigan as he muscled himself into her space at Elissa's side – Zevran already filling the other one. He caught himself up to the conversation quickly – realizing that they were speaking of tattoos.

"I've been thinking about those ink drawings you have, Zevran – your tattoos?" Elissa said, tapping thoughtfully at her chin with the fingers of her right hand. "Would you be willing to do one for me?"

"Oh-ho! You've decided to take the plunge, have you?" the assassin replied, draping his arm across her shoulders and winking at Alistair who grimaced at the sight of it. "What is a little pain, am I right?"

"I'm not worried about the pain, Zevran. At this point I've been burned, impaled, sliced, stabbed and any other number of things that are **far** more painful than a little needle put to skin." Elissa laughed, enumerating the injuries she could remember on her hand before finally giving up when she ran out of fingers. "I think it would be a good way to… remember things I should not forget – and, really – can one be a proper warrior without being marked in some way?" she laughed, and smiled at him. "When can you do it?"

"Not so fast, my dear Warden…" Zevran tsked at her, shaking a finger in front of them. "There is an entire ritual to how this is done, do you not know? First I need to bathe you in a mixture of olives and rosewater…"

"You need to... **bathe** me?" Elissa asked, eyebrows shooting up incredulously. "That seems slightly unnecessary. I'm more than capable of **bathing** myself, as you know you dirty little spy."

"Oh memories…" the assassin replied, thinking back on the glimpse of Elissa's bare skin he had gotten for a moment before she shoved him roughly out of his reminiscing. "At any rate, I suppose it's not a bath exactly… the mixture simply needs to be worked into your skin, preparing it to receive the ink. The massage is quite pleasurable, do not worry. You are in good hands."

"The... massage?" Alistair spat, glaring at the assassin. "You're... having me on, aren't you? You're just doing this because you know it drives me crazy when you prod at her like that."

"I might be. I might not be." Zevran shrugged, brushing his nails against the front of his armor. "Shall I describe the rest of the ritual to you?"

"No. No, that's not necessary." Alistair insisted, wrapping his arm around Elissa and shuffling her forward away from the assassin's pawing hands and flirtatious words. "She'll not be in need of your **services**."

"But Alistair I…" Elissa started, giving up when she saw the look on his face and realized that pressing the issue right now would only cause conflict between them – so instead she threaded her fingers into his, glancing back over her shoulder to mouth, _we'll talk later_, to the elf before allowing herself to be guided forward on their journey to Haven.

* * *

><p>"What are you lot doing in Haven?" the guard stationed at the entry to the town demanded, glaring at Elissa as she approached. "There's nothing for you here."<p>

"Show's what **you** know." Elissa retorted, crossing her arms angrily. "**I** have business here."

Her long journey from Soldier's Peak to the odd little village had been filled with far more conflict than Elissa could stand – arguments between Alistair and Zevran, Alistair and Morrigan, and even Alistair and Sten had finally worn her nerves down to the point where she could not even manage a false sense civility to the nasty little man now standing before her.

"**No**, you do not," the guard sniffed, looking away for a moment. "I would have been informed if someone were expecting… a visitor."

"Is there a Brother Genitivi here?" Elissa sighed, tired of playing games before she had even begun.

"**Who**?" the guard sneered, glaring back at her once more. "Revered Father Eirik may know of whom you speak, **unfortunately** for you, he is ministering to the villagers at the moment and cannot be disturbed."

"A Revered **Father**? Hmm… that's new…" Alistair noted, sharing a look with Leliana who had also noted this with confusion. "I wonder what that's about…"

"It has always been thus in Haven," the guard insisted, looking from the Templar to the Bard, then back to Elissa. "And **we** do not question tradition."

"Your traditions seem very different from the rest of Ferelden." Leliana said, her Orlesian lilt failing to hide the distrust in her voice.

"Our ways are not the ways of the lowland cities," the guard sneered, looking at the bard with disgust, "nor of **your** frilly little nonsense of a country…"

"We have come here looking for Brother Genitivi, and… as you cannot be bothered to see to our requests to find **him**… then we seek any information related to the Urn of Sacred Ashes." Elissa explained, noting that Leliana's rarely seen temper had started to flare with the man's words and knowing she needed to diffuse this powder keg as quickly as possible or her own lack of patience would soon be the least of their worries.

"The Urn is nothing but a legend," the guard insisted, rolling his eyes at her.

"Brother Genitivi's research suggests that it may be far more than legend." Elissa insisted, reading the small movements of his face and glancing at Zevran for confirmation that he was indeed lying.

"As I have said, I do not know **who** this Brother Genitivi is… nor do I **care** what he says," the guard huffed, crossing his arms. "I am, however, certain that **most** people can convince themselves of anything."

"I'm just going to look around for awhile then, if you don't mind…" Elissa began, starting to move away from the man.

"We do not appreciate lowlanders _looking around _our home as though it were some sort of zoo," the guard spat, glaring at her until she stood still once more. "You may trade for supplies at the shop, if you wish, then I suggest that you and your… **friends**… be on your way."

"Very well." Elissa said, moving her group in the direction of the indicated shop – and noticing the man watch her carefully before finally turning his eyes back to the entry path.

"Is it just me, or did it get a lot **colder** all of a sudden…" Alistair asked, looking back at the angry man guarding the road – and nearly jumping in surprise when the assassin suddenly materialized out of nowhere.

"Were you seen?" Elissa whispered, glancing back and ensuring the guard had not moved from his position.

"What do you take me for, dear Warden, an amateur?" Zevran chuckled, dusting himself off. "Of course I wasn't."

"**And**…" Elissa encouraged, hurrying him up in delivering whatever information he had uncovered. "Did you find anything suspect?'

"If you consider a large altar covered in still drying blood to be suspect, then yes," the assassin answered.

"It could have been used in food preparation…" Alistair suggested, his words trailing off when everyone tossed a glare at him.

"I think not…" Zevran answered, shaking his head.

"Forgive me for trying to be optimistic." Alistair groused, crossing his arms in frustration. "The other explanation was slightly more disturbing…"

"This village is not what it seems…" Wynne noted, trailing behind Elissa as she moved them closer to the village store, no one taking any particular notice when the qunari made his way forward to her side.

"Interesting strategy." Sten mumbled, falling in beside her. "Tell me: Do you intend to keep going north until it is south, and then attack the Archdemon from the rear?"

"Well, it will certainly never see **that** coming." Elissa chuckled, half thinking that might not be such a bad strategy and was already more of a strategy than they currently had - which was no strategy at all.

"Truly. It would certainly surprise **me** if my enemy were to counter-attack by running away and climbing a mountain." Sten insisted, coming to a stop and crossing his massive arms across his body as he fixed Elissa with a stern gaze.

"I am not **running away** from anything!" Elissa hissed, spinning on him in frustration. "Getting these ashes is our only hope to cure Eamon…"

"And why must we cure this man? Of what use is he to us – other than being of some curious importance to your chosen mate?" Sten said, tossing an accusatory glare to Alistair.

"This isn't about Alistair." Elissa insisted, knowing that Sten was right – she would never have come here had Alistair not had such a connection to the ailing Arl - she'd likely have batted her eyes at Teagan until she got the support she needed and let the selfish old arse sort it out with the Maker - he deserved as much for how he had treated Alistair in his youth. "We need Eamon to stand any chance at stopping Loghain and Howe from taking over Ferelden."

"And stopping them is more important than stopping the Blight?" Sten asked, narrowing his violet eyes on her and catching her lie of omission.

"We can't deal with the Blight properly while Loghain and Howe track our every step!" Elissa insisted, starting to become incensed at having to defend herself once again. "That is fighting a battle on two fronts, Sten. Surely you can see how little sense that makes."

"Their army was broken at Ostagar, sacrificed by their own foolish vanity." Sten replied, unflinching. "They are two old men while you are young and skilled, why do you fear them?"

"Howe **slaughtered **my family, my friends, then **burned** my home to the ground!" Elissa screamed, striding angrily over to glare in his face. "He **wants** to kill every one of you, and lock me away in some dark place to do Maker only **knows** what kinds of horrible things… the man is a monster, and he needs to be put in the ground!"

"Revenge will not end the Blight, kadan," the qunari insisted, his voice remaining calm and consistent in spite of her anger. "We are wasting effort, and I will not continue to simply follow in your shadow while you run from your duty and put yourself further into harm's way."

"Well, there's nothing you can do about it." Elissa hissed, narrowing her eyes on him – her voice pitching dangerously low. "You lot have put **me** in charge. You do what **I** say."

"Not anymore." Sten replied, pulling loose his blade – ignoring the mumbles from around them as their companions suddenly realized just how wrong this debate was now going. "I'm taking command."

"I'd like to see you try." Elissa sneered, pulling loose her own blades and twirling them around in her hands – bouncing lightly from heel to heel.

"Defend yourself, Warden." Sten insisted, waiting for her to make her move. "We will settle this as warriors do."

It took the efforts of Zevran, Wynne and Leliana to keep Alistair from throwing himself in between them every time she narrowly dodged the brutal swings of the qunari's giant sword. Elissa darted and dashed, always just beyond his reach – never quite close enough for him to get to her.

She was wearing him down as best she could, refusing to draw his blood unless she had no other choice. She knew enough of the qunari to know this was simply how Sten expressed concern, not just for her choices as de facto leader – but also for her in particular.

Finally, she tossed out the move Alistair instantly recognized as the one she'd used to subdue that darkspawn Alpha out in the Korcari Wilds so long ago, jumping over his down swing and landing on his blade – sticking it solidly into the ground at his feet. She brought the hilts of her blades down hard, jamming them into his shoulder joints and twisting until he released the hilt of his own blade – falling to his knees in front of her.

"I was wrong… you are strong enough…" Sten panted, meeting her eyes once again. "What now?"

"That's up to you." Elissa replied, her own breathing coming heavy from exertion.

"You will lead," he shrugged, allowing Elissa to help him to his feet and rolling his shoulders to push down the pain from her strikes. "I will follow. But I will remind you that the Archdemon is our goal, and we are heading **away** from it to find the charred remains of a dead woman… I do not think you have thought this through with clarity of mind."

"Can you not just **trust** me, Sten? Just this once?" Elissa pleaded, sighing heavily and rubbing at her brow after having sheathed her swords once more.

"It is not an issue of trust, kadan," the qunari answered, pulling his sword loose from the ground and putting it back in its holds. "I trust you with my life… but it is not my life at risk here, it is yours."

"I haven't forgotten what's at stake…" Elissa replied, suddenly feeling very old and very tired when forced to face the **very** real idea of her own mortality. "Ferelden is my home, and I intend to live long enough to see it safe again."

"Be careful, kadan." Sten whispered, his voice taking on an odd tinge of affection as he squeezed her shoulder softly. "I have spoken my mind. Let us waste no more time here."

With that, he guided her inside the village shop – watching as the others trailed in behind her.

* * *

><p>The shop keep was about as useful for information gathering as the guard at the front had been – and so Elissa was forced to allow Zevran to inspect the back while she kept the man distracted, turning her eyes on the vendor angrily when the assassin returned to whisper the details of his discovery in her ear.<p>

"My companion says you've got some **special** items in the back I simply **must** get a look at." Elissa sneered, watching the man's eyes go wide when he realized he'd been caught.

"T-there's nothing back there you need to see…" the vendor insisted, starting to move toward the door.

"It's too late." Elissa sighed, hoping the man would just own up to things and make her job easy for once. "We've already found the proverbial skeletons in your closet - though, not a complete skeleton in your case... but, I digress... just make this simple and tell us what's going on."

"I'll tell you nothing blasphemers!" the man hissed, drawing a blade and making a move toward her.

Elissa didn't even flinch as Zevran flickered in her periphery, slitting the man's throat in an instant and letting him sag to the floor in a rapidly growing pool of blood. Alistair moved to go see what was in the back, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"I wouldn't if I were you…" she insisted with a grimace and quick shake of her head. "It's one of Eamon's knights… and it appears as though he's been partially **eaten**."

Alistair's stomach rolled on their way out the door, but he wasn't given much time to consider the fate of the men who Isolde had sent here in search of the lost Brother as they were pounced upon by a wave of guardsmen and crazed villagers the moment they walked out into the village again.

"Nothing can ever be easy…" Elissa sighed, pulling loose her blades once more and wading out into the fray.

They were forced to fight their way through the entire town, pushing higher and higher into the mountain until they reached a temple at the top. The building had evidently once been a Chantry, but since then the very structure seemed to have been twisted by whatever corruption ran rampant in the town – mutating it into something darker and decidedly more sinister than any Chantry Elissa had ever seen.

When they made their way inside, they found themselves witness to some sort of sermon given by a wizened old man in Tevinter robes.

"Ah, welcome," the man Elissa assumed to be Father Eirik said, smiling at Elissa as she made her way forward through the sea of worshipers. "I heard we had visitors wandering about the village. I trust you've enjoyed your time in Haven so far."

"Enough!" Elissa snipped, fixing the man with a glare and all but yawning in her boredom with the continued play acting. "We've seen the bloody altars and half eaten bodies… we're well past pretending this place is any kind of **normal**."

"We don't owe you any explanations for our actions, blasphemers," the man retorted, narrowing his eyes at them. "We have been given a sacred duty. Failure to protect her would be a greater sin than any we have committed in her honor. All will be forgiven."

Elissa started to question him, but he didn't give her time – all of the worshipers collapsing on them with whatever simple weapons they had managed to gather from the room while Eirik himself set about casting some sort of spell.

The villagers fell easily, and Eirik never finished his cast before Elissa cut him down – Alistair having tossed a smite at him as soon as he felt the pull of his magic starting to take over the room. Elissa dug around in the fallen mage's pockets, hoping to find something of use as there was no sign of Genitivi in this the last of the village structures.

She found some odd looking metal circle tucked away in a secret compartment within the folds of his robes, and slid it into her pack – thinking perhaps it might be useful, before wandering off to inspect the room.

"Zevran, come and take a look at this," she called a few moments later, waiting for the assassin to jog over to her side. "There's an archway here, like there **should** be a door – only there isn't…"

"Good eye, my Warden," he smiled, running his hands over the stones slowly until he found what he was looking for – pressing into it with a click. "Ah… there it is…. You just have to know where to put your hands…"

He leered at her as she walked past him, smacking an appreciative palm to her behind before sauntering in after her – completely ignoring the audible grumble from the Templar who now trailed behind them.

Inside the room a balding man lay wounded on the floor, moaning softly in a delirium no doubt brought on by the pain from the portion of his leg now missing a great deal of its flesh. The cultists had been eating him… alive…

"They've sent you to f-finish it then?" the man asked, looking almost relieved as Elissa knelt down beside him.

"Brother Genitivi?" she asked, her voice gentle as she helped him to sit more easily – waving Wynne and Morrigan over to inspect his injured leg.

"You're… you're not one of them!" he noted, wincing a bit as Wynne began to gently prod at his leg. "Thank the Maker!"

"Thank the Maker indeed!" Elissa replied, laughing a little. "I was beginning to think you were more a myth than that Urn you're after."

"I have begged for death several times over the past few… nggh…" he moaned when Wynne prodded a little too hard. "I suppose it is not my time… the leg isn't doing so well though, and I can no longer feel my foot."

"Wynne…" Elissa asked, knowing that there was little to be done – even the strongest healing magic could not regrow the flesh of an entire lower leg.

"I can help to create a brace of bandage and wood or metal… but I'm afraid there is little I can do to save the foot – he will lose it and likely part of the lower leg as well if the infection has spread as far as I believe." Wynne noted, watching as the man's face fell at the news. "He needs rest and proper treatment before some sort of artificial limb can be fashioned for him."

"I don't have time to rest now, I'm so close." Genitivi insisted, shaking his head emphatically. "The Urn is just up that mountain!"

"How do you know for certain?" Elissa asked, they had found nothing that proved this as a definitive location.

"I have heard the villagers talking during my captivity here… I **know** that I am right." Genitivi insisted, reaching over to clutch Elissa's arm as Wynne and Morrigan worked to fashion a brace for his leg. "Haven lies in the shadow of the mountain that holds the Urn. There is an old temple there, built to protect it. The door is always locked, but I know what the key is. Eirik wears a medallion that opens the temple door… I've seen what he does with it."

"This medallion?" Elissa asked, pulling the one she had taken off the mage out of her pack and showing it to the scholar.

"Yes, that is your key," he nodded, smiling at her for knowing enough to sense its importance. "Now… take me to the mountainside and I will show you how to use it."

"I do not think you can make that journey, Brother." Elissa insisted, shaking her head at him. "Your leg is badly injured and will not be able to bear weight no matter how much effort my companions place on healing it."

"It is not far and… I am certain I could bear the journey if you allowed me to lean on you for support…" he smiled at her as she pulled him to his feet, draping his arm across her shoulders and sighing at the others. "To see the Urn, any pain is worth enduring."

* * *

><p>The walk to the temple was slow and tedious, the group unable to move too fast due to Genitivi's injury. Elissa passed the time asking questions of the odd cultists that had inhabited the village – discovering that they believed somehow Andraste still lived within the temple on the mountaintop and their worship of her had taken them to disturbing depths of cannibalistic depravity. She also had to deliver the unfortunate news of his assistant's demise back in Denerim. The man had fallen silent soon after that.<p>

"Here we are then," he said, speaking again when they had finally reached the door that barred the way to the mountain temple. "Give me the medallion and let's see if I remember… yes… you see, it can be manipulated just like this." He turned it toward her so that she could see the slight twists it took him to form the proper shape. "And there, a key to open the way."

"How did you know how to do that?" Elissa smiled, impressed that the puzzle had been so easy for him to unravel.

"There are few keys left like this in the world, but I have seen some… when you get the right combination it just feels… **right**… it's hard to explain." Genitivi answered, pressing the key into her hand and motioning her forward while he supported himself on the wall. "Go on, see if you can open it… there should be a place to insert it somewhere in the face of the door."

Elissa twisted the key around, sliding it against the stone until it finally fell into place and the doors parted in front of them, allowing them access to the wonders of the temple. Though it had not managed to survive the years of harsh winter weather completely intact, it still retained quite a bit of its former glory.

"What I would have given to see this place in all its splendor… as it should have been…" Genitivi gasped, looking around the great hall in awe.

"We should probably still stay on alert, Brother." Elissa insisted, finding him a rock to sit on and dusting the snow away before helping him to settle onto it. "I'm certain we have not seen the last of the cultists."

"You're probably right… I was a little distracted, I'm sorry… it's just – I would like some more time to study these carvings," he muttered, running his fingers across the ones he could reach on the nearby walls.

"I can't wait for you…" Elissa said, drawing his attention back to her. "Nor can I afford to leave anyone here as a guard. I don't know what lies ahead of us in that temple."

"I cannot keep up with you, not with these injuries… but I doubt there are any more cultists here so close to the entry – if there were we would have seen them already." Genitivi said, pulling a large tree limb up from the floor and trying to fashion it into a passable crutch. "Go, I will be alright. My destiny was only to lead you to the urn, not to look upon it myself."

"Is there anything else I should know about the temple?" Elissa asked, standing up and looking around the entry way cautiously.

"It was designed to protect the Urn from those who would steal or do harm to it…" Genitivi explained, standing and testing out his crutch's ability to bear weight.

"I don't intend to harm it." Elissa assured him.

"I should hope not – because if the legends are true, you will never reach it with malice in your heart," he insisted, watching Elissa's head turn back to him in response. "Though the legend wraps it in hyperbole and metaphor of the wrathful Maker striking down those who seek to blaspheme against his bride – it still serves as a simple warning to watch out for traps," he chuckled, thinking back to the pages of lengthy verse he had been forced to endure. "Apparently religious poetry is more widely read than 'Willy toiled for many a year to perfect the curious mechanisms that would send a sharpened spike up the arse of the unwary intruder.'"

"Cunning." Elissa chuckled.

"Indeed. I think my decision to stay here is the best one, don't you?" he smiled, watching as she moved her companions further into the temple.

"Definitely… I'll try to return soon." Elissa yelled, watching him nod in response before going back to his inspection of the walls.

* * *

><p>Elissa and her companions fought their way through a seemingly endless maze of twisting pathways blocked by key-less doors, traps, and puzzles. Each one swarmed with wraiths, constant waves of the lunatic cultists, and even a rather large angry bronto who had been crammed into a back cluster of rooms.<p>

After a great deal of running about in circles, they finally unlocked the proper series of doors to gain entrance to the main portion of the temple. Pressing forward through more of the same – Elissa began to become annoyed, until suddenly the temple fell away and the pathways they traveled began to devolve into a series of caves that dug deep down into the earth.

The further down they moved, the more dragonlings they encountered, and eventually even some larger drakes – who proved especially challenging – lighting a very annoyed Alistair on fire multiple times before they managed to down them all.

"Suddenly all that nutty dragon cult lore we found in Genitivi's house makes sense." Alistair noted, angrily brushing the ash off of him from the last drake attack and watching as Elissa continued to pry loose as many of its scales as she could carry – fully intending to have something glorious made to commemorate their dragon slaying.

"I find it quite upsetting to see this many dead cattle lying about." Elissa mumbled, gesturing at the corpses that lined the walls in great piles. "Either these lunatics are feeding a very **large** something, or quite a few more small somethings than we have already seen…"

"Neither of those thoughts is very comforting…" Alistair muttered, looking around them fearfully as Elissa pressed forward up the steadily rising cavern in front of them.

At the top, the cavern opened into a large cave – at the middle of which stood a small group of heavily armed men.

"Stop! You will go no further!" one of the men yelled, striding forward toward Elissa with malice glittering in his eyes.

"Is that so?" Elissa asked, raising an eyebrow and standing her ground defiantly while her companions moved in behind her.

"**You **have defiled our temple! **You** have spilled the blood of the faithful, and slaughtered our young!" he yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at each of them in turn before turning his angry eyes back to Elissa. "No more! You will tell me now, intruder, why have you done this? Why have you come here?"

"Tell me your name… and then I shall **consider** telling you why I am here…" Elissa insisted, crossing her arms and shrugging her shoulders at him – completely unphased by his wrath.

"**I** am Father Kolgrim, leader and guide to the Disciples of Andraste," the man replied, glaring at her. "Kill us, and you shall face Andraste herself. She will smell our blood and the blood of her children on you and Her wrath will be great!"

"Children? You mean the dragons?" Elissa gasped, her eyes relaxing and her head tilting at him in confusion, as she shared a glance Alistair when things finally started to make sense. "Is Andraste a **dragon**?"

"She is **so** much more. She is even more glorious than all the Old Gods combined!" he insisted, smiling wide at Elissa as Morrigan snorted derisively behind her. "The prophet Andraste has overcome death and has returned to Her faithful in a form more radiant than your small minds can imagine! Not even the Tevinter Imperium could slay her now! What hope could **you** have?"

"Oh… I don't know… I've been told I can be quite formidable…" Elissa muttered under her breath, pasting a smile back on her face when the angry man turned back to her. "I wish to see this risen Andraste."

"None but the Disciples may approach Andraste." Kolgrim insisted, shaking his head emphatically. "She is not ready yet, but when the time is right she will descend upon the nations in fiery splendor and all will know Her!" He paced in frustration, finally turning to her as a slightly **more** unsettling smile, if that was possible, crossed his features. "Though… perhaps there is a way for you to seek repentance for your recent transgressions."

"You suddenly want to cooperate with me?" Elissa laughed, rolling her eyes. "This is sure to be entertaining."

"I believe in second chances. All of us stumble through darkness before being found and shown the light." Kolgrim insisted, reaching forward and stroking Elissa's cheek – watching her pull away in an attempt to disguise her revulsion at his touch. "Perhaps through Andraste's mercy, her greatest enemy can become her greatest champion."

"Just say whatever it is you have to say." Elissa spat, sighing heavily. "I grow weary of all the religious allegory you're weaving into this insane monologue."

"Atop this mountain lie the remains of what was the mortal body of Andraste." Kolgrim explained, watching her carefully when he caught the insult in her words. "The Urn is watched by an immortal guardian. He is trapped in the past and refuses to see the risen Andraste for what she is. The ashes prevent the holy Andraste from fully realizing Her new form. They are a remnant of Her past incarnation, and she cannot move on so long as they exist."

"**Oh**! You wish for me to destroy the ashes!" Elissa said, laughing menacingly as she pulled loose her blades. "After everything I have been through to get here, I will see you dead before I allow that to happen."

"To arms, my brethren!" Kolgrim bellowed, pulling his battle axe loose and advancing upon them. "Andraste will grant us victory!"

The battle was not simple, Kolgrim lasting long after all of his followers had fallen. It took Elissa finally throwing herself on the man's back and tugging her blade roughly through his neck until his head popped loose to bring the insane cult leader down.

When he hit the ground Elissa was absolutely covered in his blood, wiping it angrily from her face as she cleaned and sheathed her blades. She kicked him hard, mumbling something about lunatics and their insistence on ruining a perfectly good suit of armor with their blood, then grabbed his axe, tossing it to Sten who discarded the great sword he had been carrying and gave it a few appreciative swings before securing it at his back.

They moved out onto the mountainside pass that lay between them and the final chamber of the temple, enjoying the clean air for a brief moment before they were forced to duck in the shadow of the large dragon that swooped in to perch on the nearby hillside.

"One would presume that to be Andraste then." Zevran muttered, looking over at the great beast warily.

"I wonder…" Elissa mused, pulling the horn she had scavenged off Kolgrim's body loose from where she'd tied it at her waist and giving it a hard blow – listening as the sound echoed off the surrounding mountain peaks and brought the dragon fluttering to the ground in front of them.

"You don't fear eternal damnation for slaying the newly risen Andraste?" Zevran chuckled, following her lead as she pulled her swords free again and tossed a ravishing smile back to the rest of their party.

"What's one more log on the pyre at this point?" she shrugged, running screaming at the great beast in front of them.

* * *

><p>"Dragon slayer indeed" Alistair smiled affectionately, knowing that the memory of her perched triumphantly atop the back of the great beast as she brought her sword down into its skull snuffing out the last of its twitching life would be forever burned into his memory.<p>

"Oooh… call me that later…" Elissa replied, waggling her eyebrows at him suggestively as they moved inside the doors of the last hall. "I like the way it sounds on your tongue."

He cleared his throat, blushing heavily as she sauntered up to the man who stood in glittering armor at the rear of the chamber.

"I bid you welcome, pilgrims." the man said, smiling softly at them.

"You must be the Guardian then." Elissa noted, coming to stand in front of him – attempting to wipe a bit more of Kolgrim's blood off of her body just in case it offended him.

"Yes… I am the Guardian of the Ashes." he replied, his voice deep and ethereal as though it echoed from a time far beyond their reach. "And I have waited years for this."

"For me?" Elissa asked, wondering why everyone seemed to think she was more special than she actually was in reality.

"You are the first to arrive in a very long time," the Guardian replied, continuing to smile, "and the first to be truly worthy of my attention."

"I would like to see the Urn if I may." Elissa requested, the Guardian's inspection of her starting to make her uncomfortable.

"You have come to honor Andraste, and you shall, if you prove yourself worthy." the Guardian replied.

"What if I am not worthy?" Elissa asked, the possibility seeming distinctly likely in light of everything she had done to get here... and the massive amounts of blood and cultist bits that covered her body.

"Then you will not come to the Ashes." he replied simply. "But it is not my place to decide your worthiness. The Gauntlet does that." He waved a shining hand at the door behind him. "If you are found worthy, you will be allowed to see the Urn and take a small pinch of the ashes for yourself. If not…"

"I die…" Elissa finished, not flinching when he nodded in answer. "All right, let's get on with it then."

"Before you go, I must ask some things of you and those that follow you," the Guardian said, not waiting for her reply before he turned his gaze to each of those who followed her – revealing far more insight than any of them appeared to wish to be revealed.

When he finally turned his eyes back to Elissa, she was terrified of what he might request of her – it having become clear that he could read into their deepest fears and desires.

"I can see the path that led you here was not easy to travel…" the Guardian said, watching as Elissa struggled to appear as though his words had no impact. "There is suffering in your past… your suffering, and the suffering of others," he said, and Elissa knew what was coming – she closed her eyes and hoped that she was wrong. "You abandoned your father and your mother. You left them in the hands of Rendon Howe, father of the one you once loved more than life itself… you left them **knowing** he would show them no mercy." Elissa faltered, shaking as she tried to calm her breathing – to push away the tears that threatened to fall. "Do you not feel as though you failed them?"

"Every second of every day." Elissa replied, her voice cracking. "I should have defended them to the death. I should have died on the floor there in the larder beside them."

"Thank you." the Guardian replied, stepping out of the way – the motion of his arm opening the way to the next room behind him. "That is all I wished to know."

Alistair tried to comfort her as she moved into the next room, hearing the doors shut behind them once they had all passed through – sealing them inside. She shook off his arm, wiping at her tears and inspecting the room carefully.

She inspected the door at the rear of the chamber, noting a series of locks that required opening before they could move forward. At her touch a string of ghostly figures appeared at the sides of the room, and Elissa moved to the first one – its words starting to flow out at her approach. Each one offered a riddle, that when answered correctly would release one of the locks on the door. If answered incorrectly (as they had learned when Zevran spat out the wrong response in jest before Elissa had fully pondered it) a wraith would appear and they were forced to kill it for the same effect.

When the last riddle was answered, the next doors opened – and Alistair watched Elissa move forward. She was shut off and cold - wrapping herself in the role of Warden and leader and leaving the tormented soul of Elissa behind. The words of the final spirit echoed in his mind.

_I am justice. I am vengeance._ The ghostly woman had said, her eyes holding to Elissa's as though she could see a kindred spirit within her. _Blood can only be repaid in blood._ He could not shake the feeling of despair he was left with, remembering Leliana's words to him in Lothering the first time Elissa had given herself over to the woes of her past.

He was so shaken at the thought that he could be losing her again, that he did not notice her go darting down the hall alone until it was too late to stop her.

"Father!" Elissa yelled, rushing forward when she recognized the outline of the body that stood before her – ignoring the words of caution from her companions when they could not keep up with her frantic pace.

"My dearest child…" the vision said, moving forward – taking her face in his hands gently. "You know that I am gone, and all your prayers and wishes will not bring me back."

"Why do you torment me with this vision?" Elissa sobbed, broken by the sight of her father's kind eyes looking into her own with the knowledge that he wasn't real and that she would never actually see him again.

"No more must you grieve, my spitfire of a girl." the vision laughed, wrapping her in its ghostly arms. "Take the pain and the guilt you have carried and acknowledge it… then let it go. It is time."

"Father… I failed you… I failed Mother…" she cried, shaking as the emotions tore through her all over again – her mind going back to the bloody floor of the larder – hearing her own screams as Duncan dragged her forcefully away.

"You have such a long road ahead of you, and you must be prepared." the vision insisted, pressing something into her hand. "I leave this in your hands. Look to it when you falter, when your friends cannot bring you the comfort you desire."

She wrapped her hands around the cool metal, only half watching the ghost of her father fade away as though it had never been.

"You will do great things, my darling girl." the ghostly voice said, fading with its ethereal body. "We are proud… we always were."

Elissa crumbled, falling to her knees and sobbing hysterically until Alistair folded her into his arms and struggled to calm her. Her sobs finally dissipated enough for them to press forward, but she was not the same woman she had been before they entered. Every action she took was methodical, as though her body was simply going through the motions when they were forced to fight their own doppelgangers in the next room.

Alistair struggled to bring himself to kill the one that looked exactly like Elissa, but her face showed no emotion when she slit her own throat – and Alistair believed that for a moment she had hoped the action would drop her to the floor just as it had her double.

She did not joke or offer any hints or tips to the discussion amongst the group as they had worked to solve the puzzle of the bridge to the final chamber, she simply stood waiting for each stone platform to appear – stepping onto them in the assumption that they would hold her weight.

Alistair might have been moved by her faith in them had he not been certain that she hoped that they would fail, sending her plummeting into the uncertain depths below. But they did not fail, and she did not fall – the bridge forming fully solid and complete when she had made it to the other side.

Elissa waited in the final chamber while the rest of her companions made the crossing, separated from the platform that held the Urn of Sacred Ashes by a wall of flame before which sat an old dusty altar.

"Cast off the trappings of worldly life and cloak yourself in the goodness of spirit." Leliana read, after kneeling to wipe away enough of the dust to make out the inscription. "King and slave, lord and beggar; be born anew in the Maker's sight."

"Blast! What in Andraste's name does that even mean?" Alistair hissed, rubbing at his forehead in frustration – he was tired of the puzzles and riddles, the last one they had barely solved now that Elissa had gone comatose on them.

He was two seconds away from dragging her out and saying to hell with it all when he saw motion out of the corner of his eye and suddenly realized that Elissa was removing her armor.

"Elissa!" he hissed, glancing around him and noting that Zevran seemed quite content to watch her quickly more revealed body. "What are you doing?"

"It means I can only cross naked," she said, her words completely devoid of all emotion as she continued to strip – paying no regard to all the eyes watching her.

When it became apparent she intended to finish her task, Alistair and Sten had formed a human barrier between her and the rest of their companions – well… mostly Zevran, the rest had turned their backs to give her some modicum of privacy.

When she was done she took a deep breath, stepping through the flames and emerging unharmed on the other side.

"You have been through the trials of the Gauntlet." the disembodied voice of the temple Guardian spoke through the hallowed halls. "You have walked the path of Andraste, and like Her, you have been cleansed. You have proven yourself worthy, pilgrim. You may now claim the reward that you seek."

The group turned unable to resist the need to look though they were still separated from Elissa by the wall of flame as she walked the length of the chamber and up the stairs to the platform that held the Urn containing what remained of Andraste's earthly body. She took the pinch that would be required to save Eamon's life, and held it in the palm of her hand as she walked back to them – the flames extinguishing when she had reached her destination. Sten tossed his cloak around her, covering her naked body – though she seemed completely undisturbed by the notion that all of her company had just seen her walk completely nude across the room – and Alistair took the ashes from her hand and deposited them into an empty coin purse for safe keeping.

Elissa dressed, and Alistair led them out of the temple – back to where Genitivi awaited them – offering his best explanation to the man of what had happened to cause such a change in the woman who had led them there in the first place.

When she offered no further suggestion, Alistair set them on a path to Redcliffe Castle – promising to send Genitivi on his way back to Denerim with a proper escort when they had arrived.


	29. Chapter 29: Reflection

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N: WARNING** for some **NSFW** content toward the beginning of this chapter! :) As usual, nothing terribly graphic - but the content is mature, so I wanted to make sure my readers were alerted._

_Muse music for this chapter was All That I'm Living For by Evanescence._

_Thanks as usual to my wonderful readers, followers and reviewers! As always, extra hugs to my Lady Beta **artemiskat**._

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Twenty-Nine: Reflection<strong>_

Elissa may as well have not even been there at all as they made their way back to Redcliffe Castle. Sten and Leliana were taking turns assisting Genitivi so that they could keep the meager pace Alistair had attempted to establish for them. Elissa would have been driving them much harder even with the poor man's eaten limb barely supporting his weight, but now – it was as though her body simply moved forward of its own accord – her eyes were distant and hollow, and she had not spoken a word other than the few she had offered before walking naked through the wall of flame to retrieve the ashes of Andraste.

Alistair had tried a million different times to speak to her, and gotten only silence in response. Morrigan and Zevran had also tried, either with irritation or flirtation, to stir some reaction from within her – and gotten the same. In desperation he had asked Wynne to cast a rejuvenation spell on her – thinking maybe she was so exhausted she simply could not manage to come up with words any longer – but even that had resulted in nothing.

So he marched on slightly behind her, completely lost for the first time since those broken hours after Ostagar when he had believed she lay dying on a dirty cot inside Flemeth's swamp shack.

"Tell me you are not intent on throwing yourself upon your sword **again** while she wastes away in need of you, Templar." Morrigan's voice hissed at him.

She'd managed to make pace to his side without him noticing, him being so focused on Elissa and the current attempt the assassin was making at drawing her out of her stupor. He hated the lascivious elf with a passion, but couldn't stop him self from offering prayers to the maker that he would somehow reach her this time.

"What would you have me do, Morrigan?" Alistair spat angrily, running his hands through his hair. "I've tried everything I know to do and then some – nothing is working. It's like she's **gone**. I mean – that's her body for sure, but she's not in there… I'm trying to think what she would do were this reversed, but I keep coming up with… nothing."

"Perhaps the problem lies in the fact that you are attempting to go through the motions of something your simple mind is not capable of." the witch said, and he could hear the slight laughter in her words though she didn't actually voice it.

"Excellent, Morrigan…" the Templar replied, his shoulders going tense in anger and frustration. "The woman I love is disappearing in front of my eyes and I've no idea how to save her – certainly getting in one more dig about my stupidity is the proper response to that."

"Ugh… look, **Alistair**." Morrigan said, watching him turn surprised eyes to her when she actually used his name – even though it clearly pained her to do so. "I will not pretend that I enjoy the idea of you… **coupling**… with someone so clearly beyond your reach…"

"Get. On. With. It. Morrigan…" Alistair hissed, his voice dangerously sharp as his anger simmered over with the witch's added prodding.

"**Nor** will I pretend that I think you capable of higher level thought processes," the witch added, shrugging when he glared at her continued need to emasculate him. "I **do**, however, share your concern for Elissa – and while you may be hopelessly idiotic – **I** am intelligent enough to see that only you can reach her, wherever it is that she has gone." He started to relax, realizing in her own backward way – the witch was actually giving him a complement. "Stop trying to **think** of a solution that will never come – it doesn't lie locked away in some previously undiscovered portion of your tiny little brain – it's in your heart – in the things that you can give her that the rest of us cannot."

"What would you know of hearts?" Alistair laughed; almost doubling over at the ridiculous turn the conversation had taken - the swamp witch actually trying to speak to him of emotion and love. "Every comment you wryly toss out about the miniscule capacity of my tiny little mind I could turn right back on you and your withered cold little heart."

"Which, you fool, is exactly why **you** should be up there helping her and not I." Morrigan said, her eyes narrowing on him as she moved away – cursing his stupidity even more extravagantly under her breath and leaving him to think about how he was supposed to use his heart to wake Elissa from her fog.

* * *

><p>Alistair strode into the main hall of Redcliffe Castle, a list of objectives carefully planned out in his mind. He tried to keep himself focused – to make his voice soothing yet stern – the way that Elissa would have done had she been capable of speech. As it was, she was propped up like furniture against the qunari's shoulder in the back of the room.<p>

"Alistair! You return!" Teagan said, a relieved smile taking over his face. "Might you have news?"

"We found the Urn…" Alistair began, pulling the small pouch he had used to contain the pinch of Andraste's sacred ashes that Elissa had procured for his uncle.

"Y-you have?" Teagan gasped, looking at the leather bag in Alistair's palm with eyes wide in surprise. "That is wonderful news! Let us go at once to Eamon's side and see if the Urn's healing powers live up to their reputation!"

The man leaned forward and wrapped an arm around Alistair's shoulders, steering him out of the room and reaching over to take the pouch – but the Templar tugged it out of his range and shrugged loose from his arm.

"I will give you the ashes as promised, but first I must make some requests…" Alistair said, clearing his throat and trying to appear authoritative as his uncle looked at him in confusion.

"O-of course…" Teagan replied, his forehead wrinkling. "But are these requests not something that could wait until after we have seen to Eamon…"

"No." Alistair insisted, shaking his head emphatically and drawing Teagan's attention to Elissa's listless body with a wave of his arm. "As you can see, the trials we endured to get these ashes have… cost us dearly… I would like a room where I can tend to Elissa, and quarters for all of our companions so that they can get some well deserved rest," he explained, turning to focus his eyes on his uncle while he continued to list his demands. "Also, Isolde's scholar – Brother Genitivi – was injured quite badly during his… **stay**… in Haven. He will need transport, preferably by cart as walking will be difficult over such a long distance, and a guide back to Denerim so that he can get proper treatment. We have done the best we could, and our healer is quite skilled – but what he needs we cannot provide, nor can Redcliffe offer to him." Alistair watched his uncle's hackles starting to rise at the list of demands coming from his nephew at such an inopportune time. "In light of what I am about to give you, Teagan, I do not think **any** of this is too much to ask…"

Teagan took another look at Elissa, remembering what the vibrant woman had been like before they left – and comparing that to the empty shell sitting before him now. With a nod, he accepted Alistair's requests – turning to give instructions to the servants and a group of knights with regard to Genitivi's transportation. When his nephew was satisfied, he handed the pouch over to him and went to collect Elissa and guide her to their room.

* * *

><p>Alistair gently steered Elissa to the room that Teagan had provided them. Sitting her down on the bed, he then rushed back out the door to snag Morrigan as she sauntered by with the assassin. She glared at him for a moment, but did as he requested – filling the tub in the corner of the room with water then heating it with a fire spell.<p>

When the witch was gone, Alistair removed his armor and then worked carefully to get Elissa out of hers. Once every piece was secured in place on the armor stands, he carefully divested her of the remainder of her clothing and helped her into the tub.

He tenderly cleaned the blood and dirt from her body, being extra careful as he washed the lumps of dragon blood and bits from her hair, trying to untangle the curls as gently as possible.

He joked with her as he sat on the bed, drying her off carefully where she stood in front of him – telling her how he had always imagined that bathing her would be far more sexy. She was still beautiful, and he had admired her body – her soft skin, her full curves – but he had tamped right down on any reaction to it as she sat silent and motionless through everything. It was rather like bathing a life-sized doll, making any sexual intentions toward her feel creepy and **very** unsettling.

He turned briefly away from her, reaching to get her clothes so he could dress her and get her into bed, and when he turned back to her he was surprised to see her pushing the blanket he had wrapped her in loose from her body – allowing it to drop to the floor. It was the first voluntary movement she had made other than guided walking since they left the temple.

She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his – at first gently then more and more insistent until he was gasping for breath and straining against his suddenly very uncomfortable trousers. When she settled into his lap, he wasn't sure what to do.

"Elissa… I'm not sure this is…" Alistair tried, silencing when she kissed him again – working his shirt loose and up over his head, the touch of her fingers lighting fires all over his skin.

Her eyes were still distant and it felt more like she was looking through him than at him, but there was something more of her there than had been before – and so he allowed her to push them forward along this course she had chosen, tugging his pants and small clothes down his body and dropping them to the floor before settling back atop him.

This time when she took him into her, there was no pain – only a fantastic surge of pleasure, this new position allowing him to reach a place he had been unable to touch before. He groaned when she started to move, her hips setting a steady hypnotic pace against his. He couldn't keep his hands off of her, trailing them up and down her ivory skin – the sounds of their breathing and moans mingling together and bouncing off the walls of the small room.

Elissa was not quiet, they had learned that the first time they had been together – but tonight, neither was Alistair – allowing himself to be completely uninhibited, to lose himself in what she needed from him and giving it to her freely.

When he felt himself growing close to his climax, he reached forward and found the tiny spot Elissa had shown him before – ensuring that she would reach hers as well, and coming completely undone when he felt her body clinch around him like an oh so pleasant vice. Finally spent, she collapsed against his chest, though she did not separate their joining with the motion.

He stroked at her hair, listening to her breathing start to even out and feeling their heartbeats pace themselves into a single rhythm.

"I needed that," her voice suddenly spoke, saying the first words she had managed since before she crossed the final barrier to the ashes. "Thank you."

"Thank the Maker, Elissa!" he whispered, pulling her face up so that he could look into her eyes – her voice sounding even sweeter than usual - rough with passion and disuse though it was. "I was beginning to think I had lost you."

"You almost did," she admitted, smiling a soft, sad smile at him as she reached up to stroke his jaw. "But you found me… just as I knew you would."

"If I had known **this** was all you needed," he laughed, bouncing his hips a little where they still lay joined together and listening to her appreciative moan. "I'd have taken you off in the back of that temple and had at you right then."

"You would not have," she chuckled, looking at him tenderly. "But I do appreciate the sentiment regardless." They watched each other a moment longer, enjoying the warmth of the bond between them before she spoke again. "Please tell me I'm imagining things when I remember that everyone has now seen me… naked…"

"I wish I could…" he replied, watching her flush a deep red as she dropped her face against his chest and grumbled into it. "If it makes you feel any better, Sten and I provided you with as much of a barrier as we could manage – and I think he might behead anyone who decided to comment on anything they may or may not have seen…"

"It doesn't… but thank you anyway," she muttered, the muscles in her thighs flexing as she lifted herself off of him finally – listening to him moan softly when he slid loose from the cradle of her body.

He watched her start to dress, realizing that he should probably do the same now that she seemed again to be refocused. A few moments later she was kissing his cheek and guiding him off to find Eamon and see how their pouch of ashes had fared.

* * *

><p>The once dying Eamon now paced at the back of the main room, his brow wrinkled in frustration as he tried to absorb all of the information that Elissa, Alistair and Teagan had shared with him – basically a long list of the rapidly deteriorating condition of Ferelden that had managed to worsen while he had been sick in bed.<p>

"This is most troubling… and there is much to be done, that is certain." Eamon admitted, coming to a halt in front of Elissa and his nephew. "But first, I feel that I should offer proper thanks to those who have already done so much. My Lady, you and my nephew and your odd collection of companions have not only saved **my** life, but kept my family safe as well – and you have done so, if I am to understand correctly, at your own great peril. I am in your debt. Will you not permit me to offer you a reward for your services?"

"I neither need nor desire a reward from you." Elissa said, trying to keep her voice calm though the glare she shot at Isolde gave away her issues with the Arl regardless of her attempts to conceal them. "I came here seeking aid in dealing with the Civil War and the Blight, so achieving those goals will suffice."

"I-I understand…" Eamon replied, flustered for a moment by her clear disdain toward him and his wife – and immediately making the connection back to his nephew. "However, regardless of your motivations or your feelings toward myself and Isolde, I feel that you are all worthy of a reward. I would like to honor your efforts, if nothing more."

"As you wish then." Elissa sighed, shrugging her shoulders when it became clear the man was not going to let it go.

"Then allow me to declare you, and those traveling with you, Champions of Redcliffe." Eamon announced with a smile, posturing as noblemen were known to do. "You will always be a welcome guest within these halls." He turned and retrieved a shield from Ser Perth who stood in the rear of the room, walking back over to her. "And for you, Warden Elissa Cousland, a shield of the same make as those that have been given to our finest knights."

"Do not use my name as though you **know** me, your Lordship…" Elissa said, her voice cold as ice when she reached over to take the shield and pass it off to Sten, who slung it unceremoniously onto his back. "The Couslands died in the dark of Highever some time ago, as did that name. You may call me Warden or Elissa, if you must, and nothing more."

"As you say, my lady." Eamon replied, his words and mannerisms as polite as before – though Elissa noted that the look in his eyes had taken on a much less companionable hue.

"Now, if all this reward nonsense is concluded… there is much to be done." Elissa continued, rubbing her nails against her armor and shifting her position slightly in impatience. "I'd like to proceed with any necessary discussions so that I can retire for the evening. I find myself quite exhausted."

"Yes… I'd imagine **coupling** with the bastard must be **very** strenuous…" Isolde muttered, rolling her eyes and sneering at the younger woman in disgust – flinching when Elissa hissed and took a step forward before Alistair restrained her by wrapping his strong hands around her upper arms.

"**Isolde**!" Eamon hissed, glaring her to silence – though he might agree with his wife's assessment of the situation, he knew that they would need his nephew to play out the hand they were dealing – and the influence a woman had over a man in love was powerful indeed – angering the Cousland girl this early when she was already against them was a bad idea for everyone involved.

"Let us get back to the matters at hand." Teagan insisted, trying to take control of the situation before it spun further out of control. "We have no way of knowing what Loghain and Howe might attempt once they learn of your recovery, brother. We must consider that they will make a further attempt on your life."

"They instigate a Civil War even though the darkspawn are on our very doorstep!" Elissa growled, pulling free from Alistair's grip, which he allowed when he was certain she was not going to attack Isolde the moment he let her go.

"Long have I known Loghain." Eamon said, shaking his head. "He is a sensible man, one who has never desired power."

"Then he has been poisoned by Howe's influence." Elissa insisted, her fury increasing at the Arl's dismissal of their revelations in spite of their evidence to the contrary. "The Arl is a viper and needs to be put down before he can do any more damage. Trust me when I say I am in an intimate position to know **exactly** what horrors that monster is capable of."

"It is for that reason that I cannot give too much credence to your accusations." Eamon replied, equally frustrated. "It appears, to the outside eye, that you are driven by vengeance and not by fact. I cannot trust that you have Ferelden's interests at heart and not your own."

"Pardon me?" Elissa said, her voice deceptively calm like the surface of a pond in the moments before it is broken by the torrents of wind and rain from powerful storm. "I can't have **honestly** just heard you doubt that I watched everyone I knew die on the point of a sword – that I saw the only home I have ever known burn to the ground – that I was dragged kicking and screaming from the larder as my father bled to death in my mother's arms knowing I would never see them again and barely escaping with my own life?" She moved closer to the Arl, narrowing her eyes. "Someone should tell me I am mistaken… because that cannot be what just came out of your mouth."

"I was there when Loghain announced he was taking control of the throne, Eamon." Teagan interjected, carefully trying to take control of the conversation and diffuse the tension in the room - Elissa was dangerously close to snapping and everyone knew it. "Whether it is by choice or under the influence of Arl Howe, the Teyrn is mad with ambition, I swear it to you."

"Mad indeed!" Elissa snorted, tipping her chin up at Teagan in thanks as she stalked away from Eamon, beginning to pace again. "Mad enough to kill Cailan, to try to kill **you** - Arl Eamon - and destroy your lands," she continued, tossing an arm in Eamon's direction before continuing her tirade. "Whatever happened to him, Loghain **must** be stopped."

"I agree." Eamon said, and Elissa raised an eyebrow in surprise. "What's more, we can scarce afford to fight this war to its bitter end."

"We?" Elissa asked, coming to a stop in front of him. "This mess is in **your** hands now. I have done what I said I would do, the Wardens have other matters we must attend to."

"What do you intend to do then?" Eamon laughed, crossing his arms and inspecting her as one would a child who has not thought through the consequences of their temper tantrum. "Take your few forces and throw yourselves at the darkspawn?" he let his gaze wander across her small, though impressive, collection of oddities. "To triumph, you will need **all** of Ferelden behind you… and Ferelden will remain divided as long as Howe and Loghain continue their campaign."

"Then everything we have done is for nothing…" Elissa sighed, rubbing at the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"Certainly not." Eamon insisted, shaking his head. "Howe and Loghain are responsible for heinous crimes, and I intend to see them pay… but you must see that our armies have to be reserved for fighting the darkspawn, and **not** each other."

"You are right…" Elissa said, crossing her arms as tension flooded her body. "I can continue to spread word of their treachery, here, in Highever, even against the King… but they are claims without proof, other than my word, and… as all Wardens have been declared traitors, my word means little."

"Regardless, those claims will give their allies pause – which serves to keep things from progressing further before we can do what must be done." Teagan replied, watching her turn to him inquisitively. "We must combine our claims with a challenge that Loghain cannot ignore – but we will need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Anora in order to do so…"

"I would not suggest we propose such a thing if we had an alternative." Eamon noted, sharing a look with his brother before they both turned their eyes to Alistair who stood just beyond Elissa's shoulder. "But the unthinkable has occurred…"

"You intend to put **Alistair** forward as king?" Elissa gasped, eyes going wide when she suddenly followed their logic to its inevitable conclusion.

"Teagan and I have a claim through marriage, but we would seem opportunists, no better than Loghain himself." Eamon explained, watching the horrified glances shared between his nephew and his fellow Warden. "Alistair's claim is by blood."

"And what about me?" Alistair said, striding forward to Elissa's side and wrapping an arm around her waist – looking as though he might pass out at any moment. "Does anyone care what **I** want or is this going to be another time where I'm simply sent off to do something because someone **other** than me decides that's what's to be done!"

"You have a responsibility, Alistair." Eamon said, narrowing his eyes on the young man and watching Elissa try to diffuse the power of it before it could take hold. "Without you, these men will win… and I will have to support Loghain in order to save Ferelden. Is this what you want?"

"I…" Alistair started, looking to Elissa who shook her head silently. "But I…" He turned back to Eamon, finally faltering under his gaze. "No, my Lord."

"Good, good." Eamon smiled, watching Elissa's face crumble when she realized that she had lost the battle of wills and that Alistair would submit to his uncle's wishes regardless of what he desired for himself. "I see only one way to proceed then. I will call for a Landsmeet. There Ferelden can decide who should rule, one way or another. Then the business of fighting our true foe can begin." He turned his focus to Elissa suddenly, smiling as politely as he could manage. "What say you to that, my Lady? I do not wish to proceed without your blessing…"

"My blessing?" Elissa laughed, pulling away from Alistair's touch and glaring daggers at his uncle. "Why on earth would you need my **blessing**, especially now when it's clear you'll get what you want either way…"

"Oh, but my dear, none of this would be possible were it not for you." Eamon chuckled, watching the realization wash over her. "**You** led Alistair here, **you** saved my life with the Urn of Sacred Ashes… it is **your** lead I follow." He watched the smile start to creep back onto her face as she realized that she had not truly lost the battle of wills, not yet, she still held quite a bit of power in this balance – the forces of which he spoke were loyal to **her**, and not to the Arl and his wishes. "I am a credible enough figure in this nation to cause a Landsmeet, but I hold no illusions that I could face Howe or Loghain without you. Surely you can see that."

"All right then." Elissa said, walking forward and shaking his hand as companionably as she could manage. "You have my blessing."

Within her words, a hidden message was clear to those who looked for it - they would be allies, but only for the moment.

"Maker's breath, does **no** one care that I **hate** this idea?" Alistair hissed, seeing his one ally against being placed on the throne fall to the side, aligning herself with his uncle in an attempt to put him there.

"How would you suggest we proceed?" Elissa asked, attempting to carry on a civil discussion though she wanted nothing more than to sweep Alistair aside and assure him that her cooperation with his uncle was on a limited basis, and that she would continue to do everything possible to abide by his wishes **not** to take the throne.

"You have already found allies, but we need those allegiances to fight the darkspawn." Eamon said, shaking his head as he followed her logic back to the forces she had already amassed. "We cannot attempt to launch a military campaign against Loghain, the Landsmeet is our best option. The Teyrn gambles on the attitude that everyone will decide that facing the darkspawn is of greater import than challenging him, and that by default he will lead us against them. We must make him pay for that assumption."

"And you think this Landsmeet idea will work?" Elissa said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Few people even know Alistair exists, I do not see them simply saying, _oh, Maric's bastard… yes, yes… let's get that man on the throne immediately, chop chop _– do you?"

"No, I don't imagine it will be that simple – there are a great many things stacked against him…" Eamon chuckled, watching his livid nephew pace forward to where they stood talking.

"**Hello**! I'm **right** here. I can **hear** you!" Alistair spat, waving his hands about angrily – but Elissa simply waved him away and continued to focus her attention on her discussion with his uncle, and so he stomped away fuming.

"My name carries great influence, as does yours – should you choose to use it, and even if you don't… you have earned a new name for yourself as Warden, the legend of your deeds spreads like wildfire if my sources speak true." Elissa laughed, rolling her eyes at his insinuation – but she also realized he was right. "We will need to pool our efforts to try to gain a consensus in the Landsmeet for Alistair, it is our only hope to oppose Loghain."

"It seems we have little choice…" Elissa sighed, stretching her arms up and resting her hands behind her head as she paced thoughtfully.

"Very well, I will begin to send out word. It will take some time to recall my forces and organize our remaining allies, and I would prefer to wait until that is done before I call the Landsmeet." Eamon explained, watching Alistair sink into a chair realizing that his fate was once again completely out of his hands. "While I work here, I suggest you continue to pursue the remainder of the Grey Warden treaties. We will need those allies if we are ultimately to defeat the darkspawn horde."

* * *

><p>They settled the matter of Jowan, who Elissa requested be sent back to the Circle for whatever justice they decided to give him – and then Eamon requested that Alistair speak with him in private. Elissa thought to insist that she be present, not trusting what the Arl might try to pull over on him this time without her there to intervene on his behalf – but Alistair was still furious that she had appeared to turn against him and strode past her without even a second glance. She sighed, knowing that she had deserved it and hoping that he would understand her reasons when he returned to their room later.<p>

When Sten stumbled across her later, Elissa sat twirling the amulet she had been given by the gauntlet spirit – watching the faces that fluttered in and out of the fog – her father's, her mother's, Nathaniel's…

"You are not quite as callow as I thought. That is… surprising…" the qunari stated, his booming voice shaking her out of her musing and making her drop the necklace back down against her skin.

"Callow?" Elissa said, looking distraught as she looked at him. "You thought I was **callow**?"

"You sound surprised, you must have heard this before?" Sten almost chuckled as he sat down beside her where she perched on the wall outside of Redcliffe Castle's main gate. "You'll get over it… eventually."

"Why did I let you out of that cage again?" Elissa said, blowing a curl of hair up out of her face and squinting her eyes at him in exasperation.

"I have wondered that myself," he answered, focusing his gaze upon her. "It is one of the many things I find puzzling about your behavior."

"Well, I find **plenty** of things puzzling about you." Elissa laughed, shaking her head. "Trust me…"

"What is there to be puzzled by? I'm a simple creature." Sten shrugged his massive shoulders, his armor clinking with the effort. "I follow orders. There is not much else to know about me."

"Oh, my friend, we **both** know you are **far** from simple…" Elissa said, tilting her head at him and sharing a knowing look.

"As I said… you are not as callow as I thought," he chuckled, hearing her start to laugh beside him.

"You are clearly fond of me." Elissa said, bumping against his armored arm with her own companionably. "So why is it that you are always challenging me, always picking fights – sometimes **physical** ones, over the smallest little things?"

"You do not know yourself yet, or what you are for." Sten explained, his face calm as he delivered what many would consider to be quite insulting information as though it was a perfectly acceptable thing to be saying. "It was cruel of your people to leave you this way, whether it was intentional or not. I feel sorry for you, and I feel that you are capable of more than you seek to achieve – and so, in my way, I suppose I am attempting to train you where others have clearly failed to do so."

"That is hardly fair, Sten." Elissa snipped, a bit frustrated that he thought her so useless without his guidance. "My **people** did the best that they could for me, I am not the easiest person to… train… as you may have noticed – and I **do** know who and what I am… I just don't always know what to do with that information…"

"Life is not always fair, kadan," the qunari replied, gazing off into the distance as though he could read some wisdom in the setting sun.

"I am never going to figure you out…" Elissa replied, leaning half way against his shoulder and trying to relax.

"Probably not, but I applaud your attempt to pursue knowledge… as irritating as it might be…" Sten grumbled, pretending to be bothered that she was using him to prop herself upright.

"Do you **always** have to be so difficult?" Elissa sighed, allowing her full weight to press against his shoulder.

"Nothing worthwhile is easy…" he replied, and she could hear the smile in his words though he tried to hide it.

* * *

><p>Elissa finished watching the sunset with Sten – engaging him in various discussions on the philosophies of the Qun as they applied to the world as she knew it… even learning what had sent him into the rage that placed him in the cage in which she had found him back in Lothering.<p>

She had noted his last known location of his sword as she made her way back into the castle, insisting that she would track it down before they left Redcliffe for their next destination. Stretching, she made her way back to her room – but was stopped by Morrigan's voice calling her into the one just down the hall.

"I have been studying mother's grimoire, I thought you might wish to know what I have found," the witch said, bristling with excitement and some other emotion Elissa didn't recognize on her usual prickly features.

"Of course." Elissa said, allowing Morrigan to press her into the chair that sat at the desk where she had Flemeth's grimoire torn apart for inspection.

"'Tis… not what I expected…" the witch explained, starting to flip through the pages in search of something specific. "I had **hoped** for a collection of spells… a map of the power she commands… but, this is not it."

"You look disturbed…" Elissa noted, surprised that anything could get through Morrigan's thick shell enough to rattle her this much.

"Disturbed? Yes… perhaps that is the right word…" the witch nodded, accepting Elissa's description as accurate. "One thing in particular in her writings is very upsetting…" She stopped flipping pages, pointing her finger hard against the passage she had been looking for. "Here… in great detail, Flemeth explains the means by which she has survived for centuries."

"Is it a spell of immortality, or something of the sort?" Elissa asked, leaning forward and squinting as she tried to make out Flemeth's illegible scrawl.

"If only 'twere so…" Morrigan muttered, shaking her head sadly. "Flemeth has raised **many** daughters over her long lifetime. There are stories of these many Witches of the Wilds throughout the Chasind legends, yet I have never seen one and always wondered why not. But now I know…" Elissa turned her eyes back to Morrigan, having finally made out the text of the passage she had been directed to. "These daughters are **all** Flemeth! When her body becomes too old to be desirable to her, she raises a daughter – and when the time is right, she takes her daughter's body for her own."

"That is horrific, Morrigan!" Elissa said, her eyes wide with sympathy for her friend as she reached out to touch her arm. "I'm so sorry…"

"Do not be sorry!" Morrigan snorted, pulling her arm away from the gesture. "I am not. I am angry! And I know there is only one possible response to this. Flemeth needs to die! I will not sit about like an empty sack waiting to be filled. Flemeth **must **be slain, and only you can do it."

"Me? But I…" Elissa said, shaking her head – she was no mage but she had been able to sense easily how phenomenally powerful Morrigan's mother had been – it had oozed out of her in palatable waves as she casually dispersed her glimpses into both her future and her past.

"You must go back to her hut in the Korcari Wilds. I cannot be with you when she is slain, she may possess my body right then and there should I go along." Morrigan insisted, pacing frantically with her request. "I doubt she will be truly dead even then, but it will take her years to recover her powers and claim another body… if that is even possible…" She continued pacing, and Elissa watched her – understanding that for the first time, Morrigan was truly afraid. "In her hut you will find her **true** grimoire, and I must have that if I am to defend myself against her power in the future. I come to you with this because… I-I trust you, you have become a sister to me – certainly more family than Flemeth **ever** was, and I have faith in you and no other."

"I will do what I can, Morrigan." Elissa assured her, holding the witch's eyes. "though... when I promised Flemeth I would not allow you to come to harm in my care, I never dreamed I would be forced to protect you from **her**."

"I am grateful to you, my friend." Morrigan smiled, sitting on her bed. "The sooner this is done, the sooner it will set my mind at ease."

* * *

><p>When Elissa finally left Morrigan's room, she was infinitely more tired than she had been before – the weight of what the witch had asked of her dropping down upon her shoulders like a great stone.<p>

She almost didn't hear the soft voice of the elder mage until the woman was right next to her shoulder.

"You look nearly as tired as I feel." Wynne chuckled, watching the young woman rub at her brow.

"Oh, I **feel** it." Elissa replied, laughing softly in response – then leaning heavily against the wall while she waited for the older woman to say whatever it was that was on her mind.

"So, tell me… how is it that a young lady like you became a Grey Warden of all things?" Wynne asked, folding her hands against her waist like her mother used to do – the motion made her heart ache a bit.

"When Howe massacred my family, Duncan helped me to escape…" Elissa explained, realizing that Wynne had been tending to Genitivi when she had blown up at Eamon with the same story earlier.

"Arl Rendon Howe? The Arl of Amaranthine?" Wynne questioned, watching Elissa nod in response. "Why would he do such a thing to you?"

"I am the daughter of Teyrn Bryce Cousland, formerly the Teyrn of Highever." Elissa explained, watching the information pass over her face.

"You are… you are the last of the Couslands?" Wynne said, her eyes going wide in surprise. "I had no idea… my Lady…"

"Don't." Elissa said, waving away the formality. "It's Elissa now. I'm just a Grey Warden."

"Wardens give up titles and names, yes, but that does not mean you must forget completely where it is you came from." Wynne insisted, patting her softly on the arm. "You survived, when you were not expected to… and we do not yet know all that lies in store for you, or the great name you carry. And it is not so bad, is it, being a Grey Warden?"

"There was a time when I would have thought I desired nothing more than to be counted amongst the legends I grew up reading as a child… but now…" Elissa shrugged, her eyes growing distant with memory. "I will do my duty… but I cannot forget what Howe did, or put aside my responsibility to see him answer for it."

"As a Warden – especially as **the** Warden who now leads us against the Blight, and in the efforts to reclaim Ferelden from those who would destroy it, you will no doubt wield a power great enough to see that he does just that." Wynne responded, her voice taking on that tone that her mother's always got when she went into lecture mode. "But I encourage you to use your power wisely."

"I don't want power." Elissa said, shaking her head. "I have **never** wanted it. I tried to walk away from that world a long time ago, all of this has been thrust upon me regardless of my wishes. I am more than happy to hand it away to Eamon or whomever wants it as soon as possible."

"Sadly, it is not that easy, my dear – whether you want the burden of this or not, it is now yours to carry." Wynne said, smiling sadly. "Eamon may wish for control, but it is **you** that the majority of this vast company you have gathered will follow – and **only** you." Elissa sighed, realizing that the mage was exactly right – it was Elissa who had gained their loyalty, and they would be unlikely to pass it to another.

"I will never lead a normal life, will I?" Elissa asked, her voice heavy with melancholy – knowing the answer even before it was given.

"No, you won't." Wynne answered, her voice serene.

"Perhaps I was never meant to be **normal**." Elissa mused, picking at her cuticles.

"I don't think you were," the elder mage chuckled. "I can't see you being happy living a dull, uneventful life and dying in obscurity. But you wonder sometimes… don't you… if your life would have been better had you not been who you are?"

"It is a constant weight on my mind…" Elissa admitted, her thoughts drifting back to that morning on the ramparts once again and her request for Nathaniel to run away with her – to leave everything behind – and how different things might have been had he said yes, or had she tried harder to convince him.

"When I was a young woman in the tower, I came to the realization that the Circle would be my life, and I would know no other." Wynne began, offering her own experiences in the hopes that they would lessen the burden on her companion. "Family, **love**, a simple life… these were things that others took for granted… things that I would never have. It made me very moody. All I could think of was being trapped in that tower with no way out and no end in sight. I started hating my life… and myself…"

"It's hard to imagine you as a moody youth." Elissa chuckled, trying to ignore how close to home the woman's words were hitting – her mind drifting back to how horrified she had been of her future chained to a life of nobility, living and dying bound to a man only for his titles and the benefits her family name could offer to him.

"Well I was… dreadfully morose, **surly** even." Wynne replied, sending a pointed glance in Elissa's direction as the description most certainly fit her much more closely now than it did herself. "When you get down, you need only to remember this – you can find your family in the people around you, you can love what you do – and find fulfillment in duty. There can be joy in self-sacrifice – if you put others before yourself, then their well being is yours, their happiness becomes your happiness."

"That all sounds great in theory… but in practice it is quite difficult to live in such a way." Elissa snorted, crossing her arms. "Trust me, I have been trying."

"I know that you have, I can see the efforts that you make – and my point is not to judge you, only to say this." Wynne reached forward, squeezing her arms affectionately. "You can scream, and cry, and be angry about this life that has been dealt to you – or you can accept it and allow yourself to find the good, and to give that light to others. It is your choice what you make of this – you can allow this burden to crush you, or you can use it to make yourself stronger and give that strength to those around you."

Elissa started to reply, feeling for a moment as though her mother had come back from the grave to lecture her into submission all over again – but she stopped – her eyes landing on Alistair as he paced from one room to another, yelling something back at Eamon over his shoulder before the flustered Arl and his brother Teagan followed in behind him and shut the door once again.

"You're quite taken with each other…" the elder mage said, and Elissa turned to see the woman watching her carefully.

"Is there anyone who **doesn't** know about Alistair and me?" Elissa sighed, covering her face with her hands.

"It's hard not to notice the doe-eyed looks he gives you, especially when he thinks no one is looking." Wynne chuckled. "It's almost **too** sweet for my tastes, and I'm an old lady who should be making lace hearts and fuzzy blankets with animal motifs!"

"Yes, well… I doubt it's going to be very sweet once he gets done in there." Elissa noted, reaching up to unpin her hair and running her fingers through it softly. "He's already angry with me for siding with Eamon, and whatever it is they're discussing isn't likely to diffuse his temper."

"You do seem to rub each other both right and wrong in equal parts." Wynne said, watching as Elissa's eyes narrowed on her inquisitively wondering where she was headed with this. "Alistair is a fine lad, skilled in battle for sure – but quite inexperienced when it comes to affairs of the heart, that much is evident. I'm not sure where you think this between you is going, and I would hate to see him get hurt."

"Are you saying you think I might **hurt** Alistair?" Elissa asked incredulously, thinking the way things were going he was just as likely to hurt her – but not voicing it.

"Not intentionally, no… but there is great potential for tragedy here, for one or both of you." Wynne explained – and Elissa remembered similar sentiment coming from Alistair's lips when he had finally decided he wanted to give himself to her fully – only that had been encouraging their relationship, not discouraging it as the elder mage seemed to be suggesting. "You are **both** Grey Wardens, you are a Cousland and he is the son of a King – and whether you both choose to acknowledge those facts or not, does not change the fact that you have responsibilities that must supersede your own personal desires."

"I am more than just the name I carry or the taint that flows in my veins." Elissa snipped, tilting her chin up defiantly. "I am a human being with emotions and desires the same as any other – and I am certain that Alistair would tell you the same."

"Love is ultimately selfish, child. It demands that one be devoted to a single person, and that that person fully occupy one's mind and heart, to the exclusion of all else." Wynne continued, refusing to see Elissa's point. "A Grey Warden cannot afford to be selfish. You may be forced to make a choice between saving the man you love, and saving everyone else. If given that choice, what would you do?"

"What would you have me do? Send Alistair away now because I **might** find it difficult to sacrifice his life for the greater good in some future that may never even come to pass?" Elissa hissed, seething in anger that this woman she was only coming to know would dare to tell her to give up the one thing she had taken for herself among all of this sacrifice – the mage was more like her mother than she could ever know.

"You may have to, to save one or both of you greater anguish further on." Wynne insisted, unflinching in the face of Elissa's ire. "I do not think Alistair would ever choose to walk away, not unless you pushed him to do so."

"You wish me to inflict pain on him **now** to avoid the possibility of it later on?" Elissa spat, broken laughter rolling out of her lips. "Great logic."

"I have given my advice, do with it what you will." Wynne replied, shrugging her shoulders and moving away – feeling that her welcome had long since worn away.

Elissa was seething when she finally made it back to her room, and though she was disappointed at first – she was soon happy that she did not find Alistair there waiting for her. In her mood, she would certainly have started an argument with him that would not have ended well for either of them.

She paced around in circles like a caged animal, finally snatching up the pair of boots she had purchased from the bartender in Denerim and stalking off in search of the assassin – hoping that his irreverent humor would diffuse the ticking time bomb of her temper.

* * *

><p>"Hmm… that smell… this is Antivan Leather, isn't it? I would know that smell anywhere!" he chuckled, smiling at her when she tossed the boots down in front of him where he sat polishing his daggers and lay back against his bed. "I don't know how you knew I was missing my homeland, but this does the trick nicely. Thank you."<p>

"You're quite welcome." Elissa replied, smiling as he tried them on.

"Tsk, tsk… You look so tired my Warden," the elf said, leering at her where she lay against the quilt that covered his bed, curling onto the bed at her side. "It is all this constant walking and fighting… and the arguing with noblemen… I think I know what you need."

"Oh?" Elissa smirked, turning up on her side. "This I have to hear."

"My thought is this." Zevran murmured, leaning in to her and stroking his fingers along the linen that covered her arm. "I make myself more comfortable, you do the same, and then I show you the type of massage skills that one **only** learns growing up in an Antivan whorehouse."

"Are you suggesting what I think you are?" Elissa replied, raising an eyebrow at him.

"If you mean to ask whether or not there might be **more** than a massage involved…" he continued, running his finger suddenly down the laces at the front of her shirt where the bare skin of her upper chest lay exposed. "Allow me simply to say that you won't be disappointed with any of the techniques I've picked up over the years."

"Zev… I don't know about this…" she muttered, shivering as his finger tips hit their mark and stroked at the valley between her breasts lightly.

"What is there to fear, my Warden?" the assassin chuckled, smiling at her as his motions grew bolder and he slid his hand fully inside her breast band to cup the flesh inside. "You deserve a little fun, do you not?"

"How about this…" Elissa suggested, forcing herself to ignore the redirected blood flow in her body as she removed his hand from its enticing motions at her breast. "How about I take you up on that offer to tattoo me… that gives you permission to massage my naked skin without placing us in dangerous waters, considering that I am **with** Alistair, as you well know."

"As you wish, my Warden." Zevran shrugged, standing up to gather the things he needed while she removed her shirt and breast band, lying down across his bed as he requested. "Roll down your pants a bit more unless you wish them to be covered in oil…"

He watched as she did as he asked, the motion pillowing her breasts out enough so that he could see the side, and smiling at the visual of her lying there so exposed beneath his hands.

"See? I knew this would happen eventually." He mused, working the oil into her skin, feeling her sigh as his fingers worked her tension away. "I should have warned you right from the moment you refused to kill me. It was inevitable."

"And here I was thinking I seduced you…" Elissa chuckled, seeing no harm in their flirtations – other than the short groping session everything between them was above board… this massage was simply to prepare her skin for the tattoo he would give her.

"O-ho! Why aren't you the saucy little minx then?" Zevran laughed, allowing his hands to slip slightly around and caress the edges of her bosoms once again before she swatted them away. "I've been used and wasn't even aware of it! A masterpiece!" Done with his preparation, he pulled out his needles and ink and set about cleaning them with alcohol before beginning to press the design into her skin. "I've a question, if I may."

"Shoot." Elissa replied, glancing at him over her shoulder before he instructed her to lay straight and dipped the first needle into the ink.

"Well, here is the thing… I swore an oath to serve you, yes?" he started, listening to her hiss as the needle pricked her skin the first few times – pleased that she did not flinch against the pain. "I understand the lists of things we must accomplish, and that is all well and good… my question pertains to what you intend to do with me once this business is over, as a point of curiosity."

"This is after I ravish you in celebration I assume?" Elissa quipped, chuckling until he swatted her for the motion it caused in her skin before going back to his work.

"Now **there's** a thought… Normally I am the one doing the ravishing when it comes to comely lasses… I like it… but you are also distracting me from the point." He dipped the needle back in the ink, wiping away the blood and leftover drops from her skin with an ink stained cloth and starting in the next area. "I said I would serve until you released me. One simply assumes that once your Grey Warden business is finished, you would have no need of an assassin to follow you about. Am I wrong?"

"Oh, Zevran… there are many uses for a handsome elf." Elissa replied, watching him glare at her when she started to laugh again and shushing immediately.

"I'm sure that I could offer you even more than you have already come up with, if pressed to do so." Zevran laughed, continuing to work away with a smile. "It is good to know what my options are… and good to know that you aren't in a rush to rid yourself of my pleasant company… clearly if we are not to be lovers, than we are at least to be friends of the **closest **kind."

"I certainly hope so." Elissa said in all sincerity, ignoring the suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

"Good. Nothing would please me more," he admitted, realizing he actually **did** mean the sentiment behind those words with surprise. "Some friendships are worth pursuing."

* * *

><p>When Alistair returned to the room he shared with Elissa, he was displeased to find that she was not in it. He wandered around looking for her, tracking the sound of her laughter to the slightly open door of the assassin's room where she lay, bare from the waist up, as he rubbed his hands studiously over the muscles of her shoulders and back. It was all he could do to stop himself from slamming open the door and popping off the elf's head like a bud on a rose bush – but he somehow managed to do just that, turning away and shutting himself back in their room – trying to allow his fury to simmer down before she decided to return.<p>

When she finally came in, she looked haggard and almost surprised to see him lying in their bed.

"I see you finally decided to come to bed," he muttered, unable to keep the venom out of his words though he had decided not to yell at her when he'd practiced this conversation in his mind over the hour that had passed between when he found her with the assassin and when she returned to him.

"**Finally**." Elissa spat, her laughter harsh as she walked over to the bedside table and removed her boots. "Don't say it as though you've been here waiting for very long. I was in here just over an hour ago and **you** were not – still off discussing who knows what with your uncles who did not wish me included in whatever plans it is you're making."

"Whatever plans **I'm** making." Alistair hissed, sitting forward in anger. "I can assure you, I'm making no plans – not with them and apparently not with you since you just handed me over to them to be groomed into a proper king."

"I did no such thing!" Elissa replied, dropping down to the edge of the bed with a sigh. "I supported them in there because we are going to need them going forward – but I have no desire to put you on the throne if that is not what **you** want. If you had given me a chance to explain that instead of storming off like a kicked puppy the second Eamon stopped prattling on about his plans for the kingdom, you'd know that."

"You don't want me to be king?" he asked, his expression softening when she shook her head in response.

"Not if **you** don't." she replied, reaching over to touch his hand. "You have to know, Eamon **is** right though… your claim is stronger than anyone else we could come up with." He started to argue and so she held her hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay – I'm dropping it… I meant what I said; I will not force this on you. I am only trying to help you to see all the facts, the same way you do for me the many times I can't see beyond my own frustrations."

He smiled at her slightly, watching as she removed her pants and slid under the sheet next to him – rolling over to meet her eyes once she had settled.

"So, let me ask you something… a personal question." Alistair said, not wanting to discuss the assassin now that they had managed to create peace between them once again but seeing no way around it.

"What kind of personal question?" Elissa replied, her eyes narrowing at him as though she suspected what was coming.

"I'm wondering about… well about Zevran, really," he said, dropping his eyes to the bed to try and hide the anger that welled up when he thought back on what he had seen. "It seems like the two of you have become quite… **friendly**…"

"Why are you asking?" she answered, moving back into a sitting position as she waited for him to get to his point.

"I'm just curious…. Maybe it's inappropriate of me to ask, but what are your intentions towards him…" Alistair pressed forward, disregarding her irritation. "It seems, from an outside eye, that you may have serious feelings for him."

"Serious feelings… Alistair, honestly…" Elissa shook her head and rubbed at her face. "I enjoy Zevran's company, but we are **just** friends, nothing more."

"Well, it appeared as though it was something more when I found you topless with his hands all over you earlier…" he said, unable to put that image aside as easily as she wanted him to.

"So **that's** what this is about!" she said, sighing and then flipping her shirt over her head.

"That's not going to work, Elissa." Alistair insisted, waving a hand at her and turning away. "I'll not be dissuaded by your bosoms every time I'm angry with you."

"I'm not trying to dissuade you with my bosoms you dolt!" Elissa laughed, reaching over to swat at his arm. "Turn around and **look** will you?"

When he turned, what he saw was the bare skin of her back and there – etched in black and grey in the middle of it was the beginning of what appeared to be a phoenix.

"**Zevran** did this…" he said, reaching his fingers over to touch it – pulling back when he realized at her flinch that her skin was still sensitive. "This is beautiful Elissa…"

"Tell him that, not me," she chuckled, pulling her shirt back over her head and lying down next to him. "He is the artist, I am merely the canvas."

"Forgive me for thinking… just… never mind it all…" Alistair muttered, kissing her temple and drawing her against him. "Let's get some rest."


	30. Chapter 30: By the Stone

**_Disclaimer_**_: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale._

**_A/N:_**_ Thanks as usual to my readers, followers and reviewers. I love to hear from you guys and look forward to hearing more!_

_Muse music: Heartbreak Beat by The Psychedelic Furs.  
><em>

_Re-posted with minor edits 10-10-11. Welcome back, and thank you once again __**artemiskat!**_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Thirty: By the Stone<strong>_

Alistair strolled out of the gates of Redcliffe Castle awash in feelings of satisfaction and contentment, regardless of the impromptu meeting his uncles had called while Elissa was busy rounding up the rest of their party and preparing to disembark for their next destination.

She had woken him in the most spectacular way, just as the sun was rising – insisting that it was his fault for sleeping with no shirt on – something he reminded himself to do every single night in the foreseeable future - and while they dressed, Elissa explained her logic in directing them toward Orzammar.

"We're equidistant from both Orzammar and the Brecillian Forest, and even though it doesn't matter who we approach first since we have treaties for both the elves **and** the dwarves… the gear we have with us is all cold weather gear, so we may as well finish out our tour of the mountains of Ferelden with the Dwarven capital, don't you think?" she'd said.

He had agreed that her logic was sound, and was moving to go and gather the others when Teagan had stopped them in the hall bringing a request from Eamon that they stop by on their way out. Elissa insisted she had nothing more to say to the man at the moment and refused to allow her afterglow to be ruined by another pointless argument – sending Alistair off in her stead with instructions to reveal only what he had to of her current plans for their travels.

When he caught up to her at the gate, he was no worse for the wear. Elissa's assurances the night before had given him much more confidence in dealing with the constant prying and prodding of Arl Eamon before finally taking his leave. Ahead of him Elissa bounced lightly down the dirt road speaking with animated gestures to the assassin and the witch about something that had them both smiling in return. She had donned her cowl again but was enjoying what time she could in the warm sunlight before she had to wrap her cloak on again in the cool mountain air.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Alistair asked, suddenly realizing that the elder mage who had been walking beside him for some time was eying him closer than he liked. "You look suspiciously like the cat that swallowed the pigeon."

"Canary." Wynne replied, continuing to smile cryptically at him.

"What?" Alistair asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"I look like the cat that swallowed the canary." Wynne clarified again, trying to clarify his misused metaphor before he botched it any further.

"I once had a very large cat, but that's not my point." Alistair replied, his eyes turning back to Elissa in her new armor – it was drakeskin, beautifully crafted – and it clung to her like a second skin "My point is why are you smirking?"

"You are watching her. With great interest, I might add." Wynne chuckled, seeing the Templar fluster with her words – pulling his eyes away from Elissa quickly as though somehow the mage would unsee what she had already seen. "In fact, I believe you are... enraptured."

"She's our leader. I look to her for guidance." Alistair said, trying to appear as innocent and convincing of that innocence as possible.

"Oh,** I **see." Wynne answered, laughing even harder. "So what guidance **did** you find in those swaying hips… hmm?"

"No, no, no, I wasn't looking at...you know, her..._hind-quarters_." Alistair insisted, panicking… though, when he thought about it he **hadn't** been looking at her hips or her bottom – rather, he'd been looking slightly lower – at the flashes of her armor coated thighs as they peeked through the motion of her skirt when she walked… which, now that he thought about it, was probably worse.

"Certainly." Wynne said, folding her hands over her midsection and giving him a motherly look that said she wasn't buying one word out of his mouth.

"I gazed...**glanced**, in that direction, maybe," Alistair insisted, feeling his face begin to flush even brighter, "b-but I wasn't staring...or really seeing anything even."

What he was **seeing** was the skin under that armor, and the way it looked when her legs were wrapped around him that morning in their bedchambers as he'd rocked them both to completion. And, from the way that the elder mage was continuing to look at him – he expected she **knew** exactly that.

"Of course." Wynne said, continuing to chuckle as Alistair came to a stop behind her.

"I hate you. You're a bad person." Alistair huffed, listening to her laugh even harder before he finally jogged to catch up to her.

* * *

><p>After the third swarm of darkspawn they encountered, Elissa had decided to find a relatively defensible spot and make camp for the night. The final round had begun with an ambush and a powerful blast of fire from a Hurlock Emissary that had lit them all ablaze and left them rolling on the ground in agony unable to do anything about it.<p>

Alistair had been certain they were going to die, sensing the darkspawn moving in on them and trying to pull himself closer to Elissa to offer what comfort he could in their final moments, when suddenly a cleansing wind moved across him – dousing the flames and healing the wounds left beneath them.

Elissa's eyes were wide where she crouched in the dirt across from him and he followed her gaze over to where Wynne was standing, radiating waves of rejuvenating energy and… **glowing** with the power that flowed through her body. Refreshed, regrouped, and somehow **very** alive – the group made quick work of the darkspawn – Wynne collapsing to the ground soon after. It was then that Elissa decided enough was enough; they all needed to rest and would resume travel in the morning.

"Are you alright?" Elissa asked, concern etched deeply into her face as she escorted the limping mage to a soft patch of earth at the rear of their camp while the others continued to get them settled for the evening.

"For a moment there I thought I was…" Wynne began, her hands shaking. "I thought it was all over…"

"Thought **what** was over?" Elissa asked, pulling her waterskin out of her pack and offering what was left to the woman as she dropped to her knees in front of her.

"Everything…" Wynne answered, chuckling softly. "I suppose I owe you an explanation for what you saw back there."

"I **would** appreciate it." Elissa replied with a curt nod - she was concerned, but also wary. "As I'm currently uncertain whether I should be more worried for you... or for the rest of us..."

"You should know that… something... happened... to me at the Tower, before you came along." Wynne began, taking a drink of the water to ease her parched throat. "I saw you speaking with Petra, so I assume that she told you I saved her from a demon." She waited for Elissa to nod before continuing. "I… did, but I did not survive that encounter."

"This case of death is taking a while to kick in…" Elissa joked, laughing a humorless laugh as she added this information to what she had just seen the mage do in the woods just a few feet away.

"Let me explain fully…" Wynne insisted, patting Elissa's hand reassuringly – she could see the wheels turning in the woman's mind – wondering what she had set free from the tower, wondering if she was traveling with an abomination. "I engaged a very powerful demon in order to rescue Petra. It sapped me of all my energy and will and left me drained. It took everything I had to defeat it, and when I was done, I no longer had the strength even to keep my heart beating." Elissa had grown silent, looking up at her with the wide eyes of a child. "I remember my life ebbing away; everything receding from me as I was enveloped in complete impenetrable darkness. Then I sensed a presence… enfolding me and cradling me, holding me back gently as a mother would a child. I felt life and warmth flowing through my veins again."

"That **is** an amazing story… though I don't know what to make of it." Elissa admitted, still watching the mage cautiously - though that caution was now tinged with an underlying curiosity.

"The Fade contains many spirits, both benevolent and malicious. The **good** ones rarely make themselves known because they want nothing from the mortal world, unlike the demons." Wynne explained, taking another long drink of water. "It was a benevolent spirit that saved me, without it – I would be dead… but… it has not left me… it is with me even now, bonded to me."

"That was it back there, this _spirit_…" Elissa said, watching her closely. "Did you summon it then?"

"I did." Wynne nodded hesitantly. "I thought that it could lend us aid in a situation that seemed very dire without it."

"And you were certain you could control it?" Elissa asked, raising an appraising eyebrow at the elder woman as she took back the waterskin and sat on the ground beside her – turning her eyes back to the camp.

"It's not a demon that needs controlling, Elissa – there is no danger that I will turn into an abomination and you will have to strike me down where I stand." Wynne assured her, watching the shadows passing over the younger woman's features and knowing that had been exactly what she'd feared when she'd watched her companion call upon the spirit locked inside her. "Really… you need not fear it. I promise, I'll be careful."

"I have no choice but to trust you on this, Wynne." Elissa sighed, still watching over the camp. "I simply don't know enough about these sorts of things to have anything to go on but my gut feeling that you **aren't** a danger to us… but I warn you, if I feel that your extra passenger is turning you into one of those creatures, I will not hesitate to do what needs to be done, whether I like you and need you or not."

"I would not expect you to spare me were you to feel that my presence made me dangerous." Wynne replied, watching the tension taking over her body once again – moving back in to replace the joy she had seen throughout the day. "I would hope you would spare none of us here under such circumstances, regardless of any feelings you may have toward us as individuals."

"I wouldn't." Elissa said sadly, allowing her eyes to pass over the people she'd come to care for and trust over the days behind them. "I know how important my task is, and I know that nothing and no one must hinder me from its completion."

"What is **really** on your mind, child?" Wynne asked, seeing that the weight on the young Warden had not lifted regardless of her assurances.

"It just seems that everyone expects so much from me…" Elissa said, rubbing at the bridge of her nose for a moment in consternation. "And I don't know how I even ended up in this position… I keep thinking back and trying to remember the exact moment when I became the person that the hopes and dreams of Ferelden all hinged upon… but I keep coming up with nothing and I can't find anything that makes me any more special than the rest of you."

"Perhaps it is that simple fact that you **don't** believe yourself to be any different from the rest of us that makes you more different than you can understand." Wynne said, shrugging. "You are one of the two surviving Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden. You defend all of us, and much rests on your shoulders. It may not mean much to you coming from me… or from anyone really, but thank you for having the courage to continue to fight."

"I don't give up easily," Elissa snorted, thinking how entertained her mother would be to see that the famous Cousland stubborn streak actually came in handy for once.

"And that gives us hope." Wynne laughed, watching as Elissa's eyes rested on Alistair who stood discussing something very animatedly with Sten and Leliana. "I have been watching you… with Alistair, and perhaps I was too quick to reach a conclusion."

"You've changed your mind about Alistair and me?" Elissa replied, turning to her with a bemused expression of surprise.

"Though I'm certain you would have continued to be with him regardless of what I believed, yes, I have changed my mind." Wynne replied, watching her nod in answer before turning back to continue to watch him. "There seems to be something special between the two of you. You are less guarded in his company, and allow yourself to relax. And him… when he is with you, it is the only time he seems genuinely happy."

"I like to think we are good for each other." Elissa smiled, catching his eyes for a moment when he looked up at her. "What we have may not last forever… though I think it could given a chance."

"You are right – death or duty could part you, but love's worthiness is not diminished because of that." Wynne continued, watching Elissa chuckle when Alistair tripped on something and nearly fell.

"I know enough of love to know that it is **always** worth the effort, no matter what pain you may suffer with its loss." Elissa said, her eyes growing distant with the memory of something Wynne could only guess at. "You learn to cherish every precious moment you have together, knowing that each one of them is likely to be the last."

"Well… it brings warmth to these old bones to know that something so beautiful can be found amidst all this chaos and strife." Wynne said, patting the young Warden's shoulder lightly. "I was wrong to make assumptions without knowing all the facts."

"You wanted the best for both of us." Elissa shrugged, getting to her feet and dusting off her pants before helping Wynne up as well – and guiding her over to her tent. "You should get some rest."

* * *

><p>When she'd finished her lengthy discussion with Wynne about what had happened, Elissa returned to Alistair – explaining what the elder mage had told her and assuring him, as Wynne had assured her, that there was nothing for them to fear.<p>

Afterward she had gone over to discuss the progress she had made in the search for Sten's sword with the qunari, leaving Alistair open to be approached by the last person he wanted to have any sort of discussion with.

"Might I offer you a bit of advice, my good friend, Alistair?" the elf said, knowing that even the sound of his rakish accent irritated Alistair who glared at him openly as he approached.

"I like my hair the way it is, thank you." Alistair replied, crossing his arms and moving over to sit on a log by the fire – hoping the motion would relay to the assassin that he had no need for his company.

"Truly? As you wish..." Zevran laughed, shaking his head and following behind the Templar, sitting next to him on the log and ignoring the additional glare he got. "Though my advice is regarding something else completely. It has to do with your recent... **exertions** with your fellow Grey Warden that I overheard."

"My **what**...?" Alistair asked, turning to him in confusion before realizing what the man was saying and cursing himself again for not encouraging Elissa to be quieter about such things. "Oh."

"It did seem as if you just got going when all grew quiet." the assassin continued, barely able to keep his laughter under wraps. "You are... feeling all right, yes? Perhaps you are tired?"

"We aren't talking about this, are we?" Alistair sighed, covering his face with great pain and hoping he was just imagining it. "Did I hit my head again?"

"I have some roots from home that you may chew if you need energy." Zevran suggested, watching the Templar flush beet red as his words hit home. "As for volume, perhaps you ought to try arching your…"

"Whoa! Whoa! Awkward!" Alistair said, getting to his feet and moving **far** out of the assassin's range.

"You Fereldens are so finicky. How will you ever learn how to pleasure each other unless you talk about it?" the assassin chuckled, shaking his head as he moved over to Elissa where she sat munching on an apple and scribbling in her journal.

"Not listening! La la la la la!" Alistair yelled after him, plugging his ears until he was far enough away that he knew he needn't worry about hearing anything further.

He watched the assassin plop down on the ground next to Elissa, letting his head fall back into her lap – where she adjusted it to a more proper spot with a frown. He shrugged his shoulders and plucked the apple from her fingertips, taking a couple of bites for himself before returning it to her.

Alistair wondered if the assassin could be right. He **had** admittedly been very quick to reach his… _end_, the few times he and Elissa had lain together – though he had chalked that up to inexperience and being slightly overeager. Elissa had a tendency to work him into a frenzy from which he could not will himself to recover.

He had heard a great deal back in the days before the slaughter at Ostagar about the famous _Warden stamina_ when it came to activities such as lovemaking, and wondered if he would ever get to experience it for himself, or if he was destined to receive unwanted advice from the elf about how to _fix_ his problems until Elissa got fed up with his shortcomings and sought out another lover who was more capable than he.

_Well, that's certainly __**not**__ going to happen_, he assured himself, wondering if there were books about this type of thing, or perhaps someone he could actually speak to about it.

He let his eyes drift around the camp, eliminating one after another of their companions as a potential source of knowledge until he found the bard. Leliana was a bit nutty, and a woman – which made him slightly uncomfortable – but she was also the least likely to judge his naiveté, having been in the Chantry herself.

He wandered over to where she sat plucking at the strings of her lute, and sat down beside her – returning the small smile she offered to him.

"So I'm wondering something..." Alistair started, watching the continued interaction of Elissa and the assassin, the two now deep in discussion about something in the pages of her journal while he repeatedly attempted and was swatted away from his attempts to feel up her legs. "What exactly does a woman see in a man like Zevran?"

"Oh, he's handsome enough for some." Leliana chuckled, following his eyes down to the pair of rogues lounging against a nearby tree. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason. It's just... doesn't he seem to be a bit too much?" the Templar continued, plucking up a piece of grass and tearing it slowly to pieces – watching Elissa poke her tongue out playfully at the elf in response to some suggestion he had made. "The hair, the clothing..."

"I don't understand. A bit too much what?" Leliana replied, setting her lute softly on the grass beside her when she realized she would not be playing it anytime soon – at least not while the Templar insisted on fuming about the assassin's continued attempts to seduce his fellow Warden. "If you have a problem with him, why not just say so directly – instead of all this round about nonsense?"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware I needed a specific reason **beyond** the fact that he's an assassin who's tried to kill us more than once." Alistair snipped, fully cross now and tossing the full head of grass down on the ground in frustration. "Do women honestly go for that sort of thing?"

"Where I come from they do, **oh** yes." Leliana replied, giving the elf an appreciative glance of her own.

"Huh. Really?" Alistair asked, his shoulders falling to see Leliana fawning over the elf as well. "I see."

"That isn't what this is about though, is it?" the bard whispered softly, laying her hand lightly on Alistair's arm. "Zevran is a flirt and not easily dissuaded, this is true – but it is **you** she takes to bed at night, no?"

"Therein lies the problem…" Alistair frowned, trying not to hyperventilate as he finally brought up the topic he had been hinting about all along.

"I'm not sure I follow, I thought you enjoyed doing that sort of thing with her – why would you have a prob…" the bard began, watching Alistair grimace as his point hit home and she suddenly realized what he was saying. "**Oh**, I see – the problem is not that she takes you to bed, it's in what happens **after**, yes?"

"Yes…" Alistair replied, feeling himself go hot with color as the embarrassment washed over him.

"Does it not…" Leliana said, raising an eyebrow at him and waiting for a response.

"Does it not, what?" Alistair asked, not following her at all until she held out her hand and raised her pinkie right in front of his nose. "Oh, no… I mean, y-yes – **yes**! It **functions** just fine… I just can't seem to…" he thought he might pass out in humiliation but pushed past it – determined to follow this through to its inevitable conclusion. "Oh bloody hell, I can't seem to last very long… I try but she's just so… then I'm so… and then **bang**, it's all done."

"Oh, Alistair dear," the bard chuckled softly; patting his head kindly like she was comforting a child. "I am not wrong in thinking you were untested before this, am I?"

"I was a virgin, yes." Alistair answered, not lifting his face from where he had buried it in his arm wrapped kneecaps.

"Then a quickfire or two is to be expected in the beginning." Leliana assured him, rubbing at his back comfortingly. "Your ability to extend yourself will come with time and practice…"

"And what if while I'm taking my time and… **practicing**… she decides to find someone else who can…" Alistair said, his words pained as he glanced up at Elissa who was now sparring with the elf – his usual _hands on_ technique of teaching her getting further under the Templar's skin than it should have.

"Give her what she needs?" the bard finished, watching him nod sadly to her. "Oh, you silly, silly man… tsk… what she needs is **you**."

"Do you really think so?" Alistair asked, turning to her with earnest eyes.

"I do, I believe it with all my heart." Leliana smiled at him, watching him breathe a long sigh of relief. "If she wanted to lay with Zevran, she would have – he has given her every opportunity – but she does not. If she wanted to lay with me, she could have… but she has not…" the bard chuckled, watching him flush even deeper when the thought crept into his brain fully. "When she wants companionship she goes to you, whether it is in conversation or in a more physical sense. Do not forget that it was your touch that brought her back from her despair after Haven when nothing else could reach her."

"There is that…" Alistair admitted, finally starting to feel a bit of relief.

"In the meantime, if you are **truly** worried about this… I can pass on the few tips I have gathered over the years from my male companions…" the bard smiled at him, and he nodded – listening closely as she gave him all the information she had to share.

* * *

><p>The remainder of the journey into the Frostback Mountains went much smoother than Elissa had imagined that it would. Due to their earlier encounters with roving bands of darkspawn, she had been prepared to fight off even more of them as they made their way to Orzammar – but they had encountered none. It seemed that their presence above ground tapered off in the higher and much colder elevations.<p>

All of her traveling companions had also been very well behaved; there were no petty squabbles to diffuse or unending lines of questioning to respond to. They all seemed settled into their routines for travel and content enough to focus on the task ahead of them.

This combination made both Elissa and Alistair far more lax in their scans of the surrounding landscape as they came up the last hill leading to the front gates of the Dwarven city. Alistair had dropped his cowl down around his shoulders as they were talking, scratching at the skin of his neck and complaining about how itchy the wool was yet again.

Elissa laughed at him scratching like a mabari, catching the movement in the periphery of her vision too late. In the seconds between realization and reaction her mind touched on many things; the great distance she and her lover had foolishly allowed to open between themselves and the rest of their companions, the words coming from the bounty hunter's mouth as he slid from the tree line (_Loghain sends his regards_), the way the half sun of the snowy mountain winter brought out the red in Alistair's messy blonde hair.

There wasn't time to wait for intervention. There wasn't time to draw her blade or warn Alistair so that he could dodge what was coming. She was left with only one option, only one way to save him from the dagger that had now left the assassin's hand and was traveling in slow motion – end over end – toward the exposed skin at his throat. She had to take the blow meant for him as her own… and so she did.

Time slowed for Alistair. One moment he was enjoying a comfortable conversation with Elissa, watching the way her eyes would glitter in the shadows of her cowl when the sunlight dipped in making them shine forth like gems within the darkness… the next moment he was watching those eyes go wide in fear as she dashed toward him.

Everything else blurred in his memory. He could hear the man yelling something and Elissa's _No_ yelled in response. He could hear the fleshy thunk when whatever the man had thrown found purchase in her back. He could see the brief flash of pain pass across her face before she crumpled to the ground at his feet.

He didn't have time to see if she was alright, the hunters were on him as soon as they realized they had missed their mark – muttering fearfully amongst themselves about what Howe was going to do when he found out they'd killed his girl as opposed to catching her as instructed.

Alone, Alistair wouldn't have stood a chance against so many in his harried state, but not only had Elissa saved his life in taking that blow – she had also alerted their companions to danger and given them time to catch up and join in on the fight. With the group together, the bounty hunters didn't take long to dispense with – particularly since Sten had become enraged with the sight of Elissa lying prone on the ground with the hilt of a blade sticking out of her back.

When the last of the men dropped, Alistair threw his sword and shield to the dirt and tore off to her side, reaching forward to touch her before being warned away by Zevran.

"Do not move her until our mages can assess the damage," the assassin insisted, his eyes grave and earnest – the atypical nature of these emotions in the man more than enough to communicate to Alistair that he should heed that advice.

"It… doesn't… hurt… all that… bad." Elissa insisted, pushing the words out through ragged breaths and reaching over with one hand to pat Alistair gently. "Can't… move… arm… though…"

"It is best not to talk right now, my Warden." Zevran insisted, his brow wrinkling with concern as he watched Wynne slowly approaching. "It sounds as though you've punctured a lung."

Wynne knelt down beside her, watching as she coughed – sputtering blood out across her lips and dropping her head back down to the earth to fight against the wave of pain.

"Zevran is quite right, Elissa, the blade has penetrated the lung on your right side." Wynne said, the light blue glow of healing magic drifting from her hands out to read the injury in the young woman's body.

"My… arm… will… I…" Elissa tried, her breath harder and harder to catch as she struggled for the words.

"It will be sore, but it will function perfectly once we remove the blade." Wynne assured her with a slight smile. "To that end, I'm going to have to ask one of your young men to pull it loose… it's going to hurt…"

"More… than… going… in?" Elissa joked, grimacing when the very idea of laughter caused her to cough up more blood.

"Perhaps not…" Wynne allowed, watching the silent exchange between Zevran and Alistair establish that it was Alistair who would pull loose the dagger. "Alright, here we go – Alistair, pull it loose with a fast even motion – straight out the path it went in."

Alistair grabbed the hilt, looking at Elissa in silent apology for the pain he was about to cause her, then yanking it free of her body with one hard pull. She cried out, banging the fist of her good arm against the ground then coughing so hard that a puddle of blood spurted out and pooled in front of her.

Wynne went to work immediately, the blue glow growing stronger and folding itself around Elissa's entire body. Her breathing became less labored, and the creases on her face eased into relief as the mage's magic did its job.

"Alright… that should do it." Wynne said, taking the arm Leliana offered to support her after the efforts expended on healing such a wound. "I urge you to be more careful, young lady, a few inches and the blade would have lodged in your brain stem and that kind of damage **cannot** be healed."

The mage fixed Elissa with the most stern motherly gaze she could muster as the young woman rose to her feet, dusting loose the dirt from her body and shaking out her newly healed shoulder – feeling the tenderness that still lingered inside it.

"That dagger was meant for me, Elissa." Alistair said, his voice low and serious as he reached over and wiped away the blood on her lips with his thumb. "What were you thinking?"

"I thought couples were meant to share things…" Elissa laughed, hoping to use her flirtatious humor to diffuse the situation as she leaned over and wrapped her arms around Alistair's shoulders.

"Do not trivialize this!" he warned, pushing her away far enough to hold her eyes with his own – not allowing her to soothe his anger with the nearness of her body so quickly. "You could have been killed because of that foolish decision."

"**Foolish**!" she hissed, pushing away from him fully. "Was I to stand there and allow you to take a dagger to the throat, Alistair? I assure you – Wynne would not have been able to heal that the way she patched up my shoulder." She was angry now, pushing up the hill and away from him in her frustration. "I don't want to talk about this any longer, one would think you could simply be grateful that your life has just been saved, but I suppose even that is too much to ask."

He tried to respond to her, but she was no longer listening.

* * *

><p>At the top of the hill, just outside of the main gates to Orzammar was a small group of merchants, among them the one that Elissa sought as she'd found information that led her to believe he would be in possession of Sten's sword. She nodded her head at the qunari, waiting for him to catch up before she caught the attention of the man.<p>

"Maker's breath, is that…" the man gasped, his eyes going wide when he turned to see Sten standing behind the young woman who had approached him. "Ah… I beg your pardon… can I help you friends?"

"Is something wrong?" Elissa asked, folding her arms across her chest and narrowing her eyes at the frightened vendor.

"No, no! Nothing at all!" the man assured her, waving his hands about emphatically. "I… uh… just, you know, thought I saw something."

"Since you are clearly looking at me… I would say you **see** something," Sten said, glaring at the man with his odd violet eyes.

"Well… um… yes… never you mind," the man answered, starting to visibly shake. "As I said, can I help you?"

"I'm looking to replenish my supplies." Elissa said, wanting to see if he would just own up to his actions before deciding how to proceed. "What do you sell here?"

"Well… a little of this, a little of that," the man replied, looking with growing concern at the two travelers standing in front of him. "You know, ah… used armor mostly. Nothing…ah, that would really interest fine people like yourselves."

"Is it refreshing or unsettling that this merchant is reluctant to show us his wares?" Sten asked, folding his massive arms across his broad chest.

"That is an **odd** attitude for a merchant…" Elissa noted, tapping her fingers against her lips. "Aren't you lot supposed to want to sell your goods?"

"Well… I'm **considerate** of my customers' time… that's all." the man insisted, still not backing down from his story.

"What reassuring certainty." Sten said with a harsh laugh.

"I'd like to decide for myself whether you have anything of use to me." Elissa said, waving her hand at the merchant's table. "Let me see what you have."

"Oh, ah… certainly…" the man said, removing the heavy blankets that covered his wares and stepping away while Elissa and her companion perused his goods.

There were many pieces of qunari gear that Sten clearly recognized as having belonged to his fallen companions, but no sword.

"I see a great deal of qunari gear among your wares." Elissa said finally, looking up to catch the man's eyes. "But I don't see the **specific** piece I'm looking for, don't you have any swords?"

"Kyun-what? I'm sorry… I…ah… don't know what…" the merchant started, feigning complete ignorance of what race Sten even belonged to.

"Where is my sword?" Sten asked, the words harsh when hissed between his pointed teeth.

"I…ah… don't know what you mean, ser," the merchant insisted, tugging at his collar as though his own throat was suddenly choking him.

"Just kill him, Sten." Elissa said, waving her hand and turning her face away from the merchant with a dismissive sniff. "We can search his belongings for it after."

"I…I don't have it!" the man insisted, backing up quickly until he hit the stone wall behind him as Sten released the holds on his battle-axe. "I **swear** by Andraste's knickers, I sold it on the way here!"

"Sten, tear his arms off." Elissa insisted, not even turning to acknowledge the man or his half answer.

"**No**, I swear, I don't have it!" the man plead, moving over to try and catch the woman's attention before the qunari cut off his path. "I sold it to a dwarf in Redcliffe, name of Dwyn!"

"Wait!" Elissa stopped Sten's motion with her outstretched palm. "Dwyn you say? I know him."

"He's the one that has the sword!" the merchant insisted, shaking his head in fear and emphasis. "I swear it to you. He said he was a collector."

"I will take your word that this is true." Elissa said, her sweet smile barely concealing the threat in her eyes as she leaned across the table toward the man. "But, **if** I get to Redcliffe and find that you have sent us on a goose hunt… I will come back here... for you... and be in a **very** unforgiving mood…"

The man nodded frantically, moving through the motions of re-covering his goods with fear as Elissa and Sten left to join their companions on approach to the main gate. As the company grew closer, they began to make out the argumentative words of the well-armed men trying to get in.

"King Loghain **demands** the allegiance of the deshyr, or lords, or whatever you **call** them in your Assembly!" a snooty looking soldier said, his fancy armor clinking as he waved his arms around in his fury. "**I** am his appointed messenger."

"I don't care if you're the human King's wiper, ser." the Dwarven guard retorted. "Orzammar will have none but its own until our throne is settled."

"He is calling himself King now…" Wynne noted in hushed tones.

"This is dangerous Elissa." Alistair insisted, tugging at her arm as she moved past him to try and get her attention. "We should just go, wait until they disperse to seek our own entry."

"We can't keep running from these men." Elissa insisted, pulling her arm out of his grasp. "They're going to keep coming either way, and I'd rather face a fight head on than be stabbed in the back... **again**. I didn't find that to be to my liking."

Alistair flinched at her words as she jogged up the steps and took a spot at the other side of the guard.

"I have urgent need to speak with your King." Elissa insisted, her words calm and assured while her face remained hidden within the shadows of her cowl.

"Apparently everyone does…" the snooty man snorted, barely tossing her a glare before turning back to the guard. "If **I** don't get in, no one should."

"Orzammar has no King…" the guard sighed, rubbing at his brow and frowning at the snooty man before turning his gaze to Elissa. "Endrin Aeducan returned to the Stone not three weeks ago, sick over the loss of his sons. The Assembly continues to cycle through vote after vote without reaching a consensus on a successor. We are on the verge of our own Civil War and in no condition to deal with the petty issues of humans."

"My issues are not **petty**, ser." Elissa assured him with a slight smile. "A Blight is coming and all must unite in the face of it, for the sake of Ferelden. Surely the dwarves who sit right over the growing horde realize the truth of this."

"Who are **you** to speak for Ferelden?" the snooty man asked, trying to get a clear look at the face inside the shadows. "You're no messenger to the King, that's for sure."

"Thank the Ancestors!" the guard said, letting an almost chuckle leave his lips.

"My **name** is Elissa Cousland - though that is of little relevance anymore to anyone save your employers..." Elissa said, drawing her cowl and scarf loose and letting her face be known – then pulling the treaty she needed out of the front of her pack and handing it over to the guard. "What **is** relevant is that I am a Grey Warden, and I carry a treaty that obligates Orzammar to lend us aid."

"**You!**" the snooty man hissed, eyes narrowing as the recognition of her name and face spread like wildfire through the crowd of men gathered around him. "There is a price on your head..." he insisted - glaring at her, then turning back to the dwarven guard. "The Wardens killed King Cailan and nearly doomed Ferelden! They are the sworn enemies of King Loghain and under a bounty from the crown itself!"

"That is the royal seal," the guard noted, nodding a half smile to Elissa as he returned her scroll – completely ignoring the other man and his wild accusations. "That means only the Assembly is authorized to address it. Grey Warden, you and your company may pass."

"You're letting in a group of traitors **and** foreigners?" the snooty man yelled, stomping forward in fury. "In the name of King Loghain I **demand** that you execute this… this… **stain **on the honor of Ferelden!"

"Your **Loghain** is no King of mine." Elissa hissed, striding forward to meet the man – watching him as his fury faltered slightly at the venom that glittered in her emerald eyes. "And if it is a traitor you're searching for, I'd suggest you turn your eyes elsewhere. It was Loghain who was responsible for the death of King Cailan at Ostagar, **not** the Wardens."

"**What**?" the snooty man yelped, stumbling back and reaching for his sword. "L-lies and slander! King Loghain will not suffer this! I will not suffer it! **I** am his messenger!"

"You keep repeating that as if it **means** something!" Elissa laughed, pulling free her own swords. "Do you know what I hear when you say those words? I **hear** that you are expendable enough to be sent on a fool's errand in the middle of nowhere with no one to come to your aid when I lay you down screaming in the dirt!"

"Kill each other as you will, but take your fight off my sodding doorstep!" the guard insisted, giving both of them a solid shove and watching as they stalked off down the hill.

"This is foolish, Elissa, what has gotten into you?" Alistair hissed, his words a mix of anger and concern as they followed Loghain's men to an acceptable distance.

"Sten was right, Alistair – we can't keep running from this fight." Elissa replied, rolling her shoulder to try and loosen it a bit as it was still tense from her very recent injury. "The men that Loghain and Howe send after us are going to **keep** coming. We either meet them head on or we die looking over our shoulders, and I, for one, like living."

She took off down the hill after that, screaming as she threw herself on the smart mouthed nobleman who had faced off against her at the gate. As seemed to be usual with Howe's chosen soldiers, they fell easily under the superior skills of Elissa and her companions – and she wiped her weapons clean on the snooty messenger's now headless corpse before returning to the guardsman once again.

"You've done me a service, Warden," the dwarf smiled. "That fool was out here barking at me for no less than a week. Are all humans so touched?"

"Not especially." Elissa chuckled, re-sheathing her swords. "But the new **King's** men seem to possess what my father would have called a special kind of stupid."

"You and your company are free to enter," he said, nodding as he and his men pulled open the great doors. "Though I do not know what help we can offer you."

She nodded her thanks, moving inside.

* * *

><p>The entry hall to Orzammar was stunning, lined with huge intricate statues carved from the same stone with which the mountain itself was made. Elissa looked them over with great interest as they moved through the hall – not noticing how Alistair had drifted to the back of the group now lost in his own musing.<p>

"What would you do if someone told you that they loved you?" Alistair asked, puffing out a heavy breath as he fell in stride beside the elder mage.

"Check their eyesight first, perhaps." Wynne laughed, smiling at him. "Is this someone I should know about?"

"No. I mean, pretend you're a woman..." Alistair said, shaking his head as he tried to find the right words to make his meaning clear.

"I **am **a woman, Alistair, so that shouldn't be **too** hard." Wynne replied, continuing to chuckle. "I'll give it a try."

"Ahhh, that's... not what I meant." Alistair said, shaking his head and realizing this was getting worse and worse every time he opened his mouth. "Just... pretend you're **another** woman, and someone told you that they loved you. How would you react?"

"Well, that depends. Does this someone just blurt it out? Do I love them back? I need context." Wynne explained, trying to get the young man to drop his pretense and just ask the questions that weighed on him.

"I... I don't know if you love them back. Maybe you do. You've... spent a lot of time with this person – and you've said as much on several occasions…" Alistair said, his eyes sad as he turned them to the floor.

"If she's said that she loves you, Alistair, I would not doubt that she means it." Wynne said, holding his eyes regardless of his attempts to deny a direct conversation. "I cannot see Elissa using such a phrase were she not certain it was true."

"I would have thought the same thing… and there are times when it **feels** true… but then, sometimes she gets so cold and distant – so focused on Howe and all that **darkness **he brings out in her…" Alistair said, his eyes lingering on her heavily where she moved just inside the doors into Orzammar's main circle. "And then she does things like earlier, tossing herself directly in the line of fire… if you loved someone you'd fight harder to stay alive."

"Alistair, she took that blow **because** she loves you and was willing to sacrifice her own life to see that **you** continued to live." Wynne insisted, sighing heavily in frustration. "There will be times when she will have to be focused and distant to you, to all of us, in order to accomplish the things she must and save us all. If you cannot see past those things and read that underneath she makes these decisions because of her love for you and not in spite of it, then you are as thick as Morrigan makes you out to be."

Alistair stood in silence for a moment, humbled by the mage's words - before breathing deeply and bringing up the rear as they all moved into the main area of the city.

* * *

><p>When Elissa stepped through the second set of doors into the main city, she was in awe at the sheer size and beauty of it. The craftsmanship of the dwarves was known throughout Thedas, but she had never seen so much of it at one time and was struck dumb at just how impressive it actually was.<p>

Her reverie was short lived, interrupted by a loud argument between the two factions at war for the throne before it dissolved into violence – leaving one man dead on the floor before the Captain of the Guard dispersed the remaining combatants and set his men on cleaning away the corpse.

"Veata, surfacer," the Captain said as Elissa approached him. "I am bid to let you walk the commons, but keep your place! Warden or not, I expect order – better than that mess you made outside our main gates."

"That mess at the gates was my doing, but not my intention." Elissa assured the guardsman. "I came to Orzammar seeking aid against the Blight and those men attacked me. I should hope that I would not be faulted for defending my own life."

"You humans and your surface problems…" the Captain said, rolling his eyes. "Regardless, we have no King to hear you. You can go join in the shouting at the Assembly in the Diamond Quarter if you want. Bunch of deshyr lords bickering over sand…" he explained, waving his hand in the general direction of the Assembly Hall. "Bhelen, Harrowmont… is one **really** so different from the other? There are no Paragons here."

"It sounds to me like Bhelen and Harrowmont are the ones I need to talk to." Elissa mused; tapping thoughtfully at her lip as she usually did when contemplating what to do next.

"Best of luck with that," the Captain snorted, shaking his head at her ignorance. "They've caged themselves out of fear of each other. Bhelen only speaks through his second, Vartag Gavorn, in the Assembly Hall. Lord Harrowmont speaks through Dulin Forender from his estate."

"I guess I should go see them then…" Elissa said, more to herself than anyone else.

"Yes, you should." the Captain replied, crossing his arms and turning his attention back to guarding the city as Elissa moved away.

"So now we're to sort out the political problems of the dwarves?" Morrigan bit out, her irritation dripping from every syllable as she glided up to Elissa's shoulder. "Cannot we just demand what we need and be done with this?"

"Have you not been listening, Morrigan?" Elissa sighed, rubbing at the ache in her shoulder a bit. "We can demand nothing of the dwarves without a King, and as they are currently without one – then we must attempt to sort one out. Trust me, I have no desire to mire myself in dwarven politics any more than I wish to mire myself in the politics of my own people… and yet, I find myself entrenched in both."

"We waste time with this nonsense Elissa…" Morrigan began, and Elissa could hear the tension welling in the witch's words – her focus back on her issues with her own mother, and though Elissa could not blame her – neither could she allow her focus to be shifted.

"What would you have me do? Abandon this treaty and go running off into the Wilds in search of your mother?" Elissa snapped, shutting the witch's mouth with the tone of her voice. "I gave you my word I would help you, Morrigan, and I will – but we must address one thing at a time. I already feel myself stretched thin with the pull of my many obligations, please do not make this harder for me than it has to be."

Morrigan did not respond, tilting her chin up in haughty resignation before allowing her pace to slow until she was no longer in Elissa's direct company. When she fell away, Alistair increased his pace and took her spot.

"What was that about?" he asked, his tone cautiously neutral.

"Oh, the usual, **this** is stupid… we **should** be doing something else…" Elissa replied, shrugging her shoulders in irritation. "Did you come to have your turn?"

"No, I didn't come to complain… I know why you're doing this." Alistair assured her, and though her eyes looked unconvinced – he could see that some of her tension eased when it appeared as though she would not have to defend herself against another round of questioning.

"Do you?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow at him. "That would be refreshing…"

"Elissa, I don't always understand your motivations – and I admit, were I in charge I would do things differently most of the time…" Alistair explained, watching her draw in a quick breath of frustration when he said what he would do if **he** were in charge. "However, I am **not** in charge, and it isn't fair that any of us continue to question your every move when we are unwilling to take charge ourselves… well… except for Sten, but I think you've moved beyond that – haven't you?"

"Yes, we're fine now." Elissa laughed, allowing Alistair to pull her into the comfort of his arms in the shadows of a corner just beyond the watchful eyes of their companions.

"I will try to be more supportive," he said, leaning forward to capture her lips in a soft kiss. "Though I insist we speak about what happened with the bounty hunters at another time. I have some things I need to say."

"As long as you say them while doing that," she replied, tracing his lower lip with her thumb. "I wouldn't be opposed to further discussion."

He kissed her again, allowing her to draw away from him and into the Assembly Hall where she sought out Bhelen's representative.

* * *

><p>"Alistair." Wynne said, moving up to lean against the wall next to him where he stood watching the conversation Elissa was having with Bhelen's representative – she had asked the rest of the company to hang back, taking only Zevran and Sten along with her so as not to overwhelm the poor man. "May I have a word?"<p>

"Of course, anything for my favouritest mage ever." Alistair replied, smiling at her briefly before turning his eyes back to Elissa.

"It seems you and our fearless leader are inseparable these days." Wynne noted, watching the way his eyes narrowed a bit as the assassin allowed his hip to rest against his fellow rogues subtly. "Joined at the hip, almost."

"That's a bit of an overstatement, don't you think?" Alistair huffed, a tilt of his chin bringing her attention to the fact that it wasn't him pawing at her while she talked through things with the dwarf.

"Perhaps," Wynne answered, nodding at him. "Still… now that you're in an intimate relationship, you should learn about where babies really come from."

"Pardon?" Alistair managed to choke out, spinning to face her.

"I know the Chantry says you dream about your babies and the good Fade spirits take them out of the Fade and leave them in your arms...but that's not true." Wynne began, watching his face bloom with color as he looked around to make sure no one else was hearing this. "Actually what happens is that when a girl and a boy really love each other and they have made the decision to lay together in…."

"_Andraste's flaming sword!_" Alistair hissed, leaning in close to keep them from being overheard. "I **know** where babies come from!"

"Do you? Do you really?" Wynne asked, looking at him expectantly as though she wanted him to tell her what he knew so that she could verify it to be true.

"I certainly hope so." Alistair whispered, turning his face away from her and thinking about how little he and Elissa had been doing to prevent a pregnancy.

Avernus had insisted that the very idea of a female Warden being able to successfully conceive a child with the taint swirling in her blood was ludicrous – and so, they had assumed that with two Wardens it was a solid impossibility. As much as his heart loved the idea of Elissa carrying his child, his mind knew this was certainly **not **the time for such dreaming. Suddenly trusting the loony mage so implicitly seemed foolish to him.

"Oh, all right then." Wynne chuckled, letting the issue drop when she saw his mind working away – at least she had gotten him to think, which had been her objective from the beginning. "Aww, look, you're all red and mottled. How cute."

"You did that on purpose!" Alistair chuckled, raising a suspicious eyebrow at her.

"Now, now Alistair, why would I do such a thing?" Wynne said, raising her hands in innocence.

"Because you're wicked." Alistair replied, turning his eyes back to Elissa who appeared to be nearing the end of her conversation with the first of the dwarves. "That frail old lady act? I'm **so** not fooled. I'm on to you now."

* * *

><p>Elissa's expression was troubled as she moved them out of the Assembly Hall and turned them in the direction of Harrowmont's Estate.<p>

"I **am** right in believing those documents to be forgeries, am I not?" Elissa asked, looking at Zevran from the corner of her eye.

"Oh yes, my dear." Zevran replied with a nod. "And poorly executed ones at that."

"Well, let's hope that Harrowmont proves a more appealing candidate, else we shall be flipping a coin in order to make our decision…" Elissa frowned, pushing open the doors to the second dwarves home and moving the group inside – asking, once again, to be allowed to speak with him with only Sten and Zevran as an escort and leaving the rest of her company in the front lobby.

"I heard there was a Grey Warden here, and a female one at that…" the dwarf said, smiling at her as he passed an appraising eye down her long legs. "I am Dulin Forender, second to Lord Harrowmont, Endrin's own choice as a successor." He sighed heavily, feigning sympathy as best he could. "Word is spreading that the surface may be facing a Blight. It is shameful we are not in a better position to help."

"I would like to speak with Lord Harrowmont about that, if I could…" Elissa began, knowing well it would not be that easy - and wondering if all dwarves were going be fascinated by her lower appendages.

"In an ordinary time I am certain that Lord Harrowmont would be honored to meet you." Dulin responded, shaking his head sadly. "Unfortunately, we've already caught more than one of Bhelen's spies attempting to approach under the pretense of friendship. You'll have to forgive me if I can't just take your word… if you wish to speak to Harrowmont, you will need to prove he can trust you."

"While I can assure you that I am no spy… I understand your hesitancy." Elissa allowed, worrying the bridge of her nose in consternation. "What would you find acceptable proof that I do not work for your enemy?"

"If you truly wish to prove such a thing, then I would think entering the Proving tomorrow would force Harrowmont to see the truth of your claims." Dulin answered, shrugging his shoulders at her.

"You wish for **me** to enter the Proving in Harrowmont's name?" Elissa asked, raising an eyebrow at him – she knew enough of the dwarven ritual to understand that it was not a matter to be taken lightly. Proving battles were always brutal and could often prove to be deadly in their resolution.

"It would certainly make your loyalties heard loud and clear." the dwarf replied, crossing his arms. "Bhelen would never work with someone who would humiliate him so publicly and so Harrowmont would have no fear to speak with you then. Also, Bhelen has found some way to intimidate or blackmail two of our best fighters to step down, so your skill would be much appreciated."

"Fine, I'll enter the Proving and speak to the others to see what happened to cause them to withdraw." Elissa sighed, rubbing her hands across her face – Alistair and several of her other companions were not going to approve of this decision, but she saw no way around it. "But if I do this, I want assurances that I will be allowed to speak with your Lord."

"If you win the Proving, Warden, I expect you'll be able to gain an audience with pretty much anyone you seek out within Orzammar's walls." Dulin chuckled; shaking the hand she had offered him. "The arena is located off the central commons. Speak with the Proving Master and let him know what you wish to do, he will take care of the rest and secure quarters for you and your friends for the night." He watched as she turned with her companions to walk away, noting the disapproving glance she got from the qunari. "The fighters we lost were Gwiddon and Baizyl if you choose to seek them out. I'll be waiting to hear word of your victory…"

"**Tell** me I've lost my mind." Alistair insisted, running his hands through his hair in frustration as he walked out the door behind Elissa and trailed along as she directed them back toward the commons and entry to the Proving Grounds. "**Tell** me that I did not just hear that you're going to enter yourself in tomorrow's Provings!"

"Alistair, please…" Elissa said, trying to silence him but not even allowed to finish her sentence before Morrigan was on her as well.

"We should just simply go with the other little man." Morrigan insisted, folding her arms across her chest. "He may be a liar but he does not request you put yourself through a physical trial simply to speak with him."

"I will not willingly ally us with a known liar when there is another alternative." Elissa replied, growing more irritated with every step. "I apologize that I am, yet again, failing to meet with your expectations – but you're going to have to learn to live with your disappointment in me – as you should have long before now."

With that she stomped off up the long bridge to the Proving Grounds, seeking out the dwarf who could secure their rooms and get her set for tomorrow's battles.

* * *

><p>While Elissa got things settled for the Provings and did what was necessary in order to get the two fighters who had withdrawn back into the line up as well – Alistair wandered around and listened to the chatter among the fans who anxiously awaited the next bouts in the ring.<p>

Everything he heard made him increasingly more anxious, and so when Elissa motioned that they should retire to their quarters – he found himself doing so with a very heavy heart. She had taken a single room for the two of them as usual, and was busy putting her armor onto a stand when he started to speak from his spot on the bed.

"I know I said I would try to be more supportive…" Alistair began, hearing her sigh come from across the room as he pulled the last of his armor free and tossed it over beneath the stand where the rest had already been secured. "But I need to hear your reasoning for this."

"For **what** exactly?" Elissa asked, stripped down to her chemise and leggings and digging through her pack for the shirt she used to sleep in. "I've made a great number of decisions of which you did not approve since we awoke this morning..."

"For insisting that it be **you** who goes into the Proving tomorrow," he replied, sighing his own frustration right back at her. "They need to trust the Wardens, Elissa – which means that the only requirement on who enters is that they **be** a Warden. I am a Warden too, or have you forgotten?"

"I suppose the obvious reason that I selfishly don't want you to be hurt is not enough…" Elissa replied, flipping the shirt over her head and bending to slide her leggings off.

"Considering the fact that I have no desire to see you be hurt is not reason enough to stop you from entering yourself, I will have to say **no**… that is not enough." Alistair answered, swallowing as his eyes lingered on the bare skin of her thighs when her shirt lifted higher as she pulled loose her hair.

"Alright then, from what I've learned talking to Zevran and Harrowmont's other men – the fights in the Provings tend to go in favor of the faster combatant." she explained, running her fingers through the curls of her hair to pull out the tangles. "Your plate armor and your shield make you slow. I am naturally fast, even more so now that I've taken Avernus' concoction."

"I can wear leather armor and lose the shield." he replied, refusing to be dissuaded.

"You think **that** is going to convince me to change my mind?" Elissa laughed, flopping heavily on the bed and looking up at him. "Offering to fight in less armor while forced by the loss of your shield into a fighting style to which you are not accustomed?"

"I can fight without a shield, Elissa, I simply prefer to fight **with** one." Alistair assured her, leaning forward to hold her hip – running the fingers of his other hand along her jaw. "And you fight in lighter armor than mine all the time, so that argument also seems illogical. I need a **reason** to allow this because today has forced me to see that, eventually, there will be a blow that you cannot outrun, a wound that Wynne cannot heal… and it is becoming increasingly difficult, in light of that, to allow you to simply hand yourself over to danger."

"There **is** another reason…" she began, holding his eyes – watching him understand even before she had spoken.

"No, no **that's** not a reason…" he said, backing away from her and staring at the ceiling.

"It is, Alistair." Elissa insisted, crawling over to him, turning his face back to her with her hand. "You may hate it, you may refuse to acknowledge it, but your blood makes you different. I am expendable, **you** are not."

"I refuse to accept that!" Alistair yelled, looking up at her – hurt and anger warring in his eyes. "I thought you weren't going to force this on me."

"Do you hear me forcing anything on you?" she laughed, stroking his jaw. "I said I wouldn't, and I'm not… but that doesn't mean that I don't see the truth where you refuse to acknowledge it. There will come a time where you will have to make a decision to live your life the way you think best for you, or the way you **know** to be best for Ferelden. When you make it, I will stand beside you no matter what you decide. Until then, I have to protect the idea that you **could** be King – and so, I go to the Proving tomorrow and you cheer me on riotously from the stands."

"I do not like this, Elissa." he insisted, holding her face in his hands. "I do not like this at all."

"I didn't expect that you would." Elissa chuckled, covering his hands with her own.

"I suppose I could manage to cheer for you though…" Alistair smirked, trying to give her the peace she needed.

"Riotously!" she insisted with a smile.

"Riotously even." he laughed, tugging her closer and wrapping his arms around her.

"You **could** practice now…" Elissa said, climbing on top of him and allowing her weight to settle against his hips.

"You want me to cheer for you now?" Alistair replied, looking at her in confusion.

"Not exactly…" she whispered, rolling her hips against him and feeling his body respond to her movement.

"I see…" he sighed, pulling her face down to him and claiming her mouth… the concerns that Wynne had raised in him earlier forgotten once again as he lost himself in his love for her.


	31. Chapter 31: Proof of Life

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale._

_**A/N: WARNING! **__Chapter contains material that is __**NSFW**__! You have been warned!_

_Muse Music__: Who We Are__ by Red._

_Thanks to my readers, followers and reviewers! I love hearing from you guys anytime :) _

_And thank you to my Lady Beta, **artemiskat**._

_Minor edits added 10-12-11.  
><em>

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Thirty-One: Proof of Life<strong>_

Alistair woke awash in fear and anxiety, and the sensations intensified as the morning progressed. Elissa was going into the Provings today, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

He wasn't even allowed to help with preparation - having been told to stand in the corner and not interfere after several of his _suggestions_ managed only to bring about further friction between he and Elissa. He watched as she and the assassin strapped her into the armor they had modified for the challenge, and try as he might - found himself unable to wrap his mind around the logic of it. To him, it seemed **insane** to forgo protection in the name of speed – but that is exactly what Elissa had done.

"Tell me again why you're leaving your drakescale here in favor of that half armor the assassin dug up from who knows where?" Alistair snipped, his nervous energy converting itself easily into irritation as the elf's nimble fingers checked the tiny daggers he'd hidden throughout the various compartments her borrowed armor held.

"I had this armor custom made in Antiva long ago and it fits **me** perfectly." the assassin replied, smiling in approval as Elissa stretched and moved about to test the armor. "It is not my fault that our Warden's curves are too... _generous_... to be contained…"

"I'm sure you were trying to make a point there, or maybe you meant to rile me by talking about Elissa's curves, but all I got out of that useless prattle was that **you** normally wear women's armor…" Alistair chuckled, earning a testy glare from the both of them.

"If you're going to be all jittery and pick fights, Alistair, I **do** wish you'd go and wait outside with the others." Elissa sighed, rolling her neck and stretching out the tension in her aching shoulder – her injury from the bounty hunter's dagger still more tender than she liked. "The clinking of your armor is starting to drive me insane."

"And leave you here alone with handsy the elf? I think not." Alistair snorted, crossing his arms and planting himself against the wall, not to be moved.

"Suit yourself…" Elissa shrugged, going back to what she was doing.

* * *

><p>Around twenty minutes later, one of the Proving Squires came to collect her, and Elissa was directed to the Proving Master to get things started.<p>

The elder dwarf seemed a bit frustrated that she arrived with such a large entourage, and shuffled the majority of them off into the stands to watch the bouts, allowing her to keep only one of her companions as her own personal assistant for the duration of the fights. Alistair had been far from pleased when she had chosen Zevran to stay with her, but eventually let it go when she explained that she would need him to make adjustments to the unfamiliar armor she was wearing if it took damage during any of her fights.

"Was there a particular name you wanted listed, Warden?" the Master asked, tapping his journal anxiously with a quill and waiting for her answer.

"Warden is fine." Elissa replied, not completely comfortable with her name being so widely known even in the isolated safety of Orzammar.

"Excellent, I was hoping you'd say that." the Master replied, scribbling the notation down on the paper. "Those human names can be a real burr to pronounce… let's see, we have an opening in the first round. Are you ready to start?"

"I should probably know the rules before I agree to that, don't you think?" Elissa said, smiling at the dwarf to try to diffuse his irritation with her continued dalliance.

"Fights start at the gong and go 'til first blood is drawn. No eye-gouging, no groin pulls." the Master explained, holding Elissa's eyes with each instruction as though she planned on running out into the ring and doing the exact opposite of everything he said. "Any special rules for the individual bouts will be announced as they start. I hope you're comfortable with all normal and lyrium-enhanced weaponry as well as single-combat, pairs and battle units because any of those specialties could be required."

"I have done enough fighting to know my way around anything that might be required of me." Elissa assured him, crossing her arms when he looked at her as though he didn't quite believe that.

"I'm sure you're ready to start then… or did you have **more** questions?" the Master snipped, narrowing his eyes at her expectantly.

"You're the one standing here continuing to question me! **I'm** ready to fight!" Elissa snipped back, waving her hands to shoo the dwarf forward so he'd get on with things.

"The fighter's quarters are behind the ring," the Master explained, grumbling to himself as he walked away. "Go on down and I'll be right there."

* * *

><p>"Do you stare at everyone like that?" Elissa asked, pacing at the mouth of the tunnel that lead out into the Proving Ring and flexing her muscles to try and stay loose while they waited for the match to begin.<p>

"Not everyone…" the assassin chuckled, his cool eyes lingering on her from where he leaned against the wall. "But… a beautiful woman such as yourself? Why not? I am sure you have drawn many stares from men and even other women… does this bother you?"

"Sometimes…" she replied, holding his eyes for a second as she thought about the way Rendon Howe had looked at her back at Castle Highever and forcing herself not to gag with the memory of it.

"I can desist, if you'd prefer." Zevran offered, holding out his arm and inspecting his fingers for a moment before turning his eyes back to her. "It would be… **difficult**… traveling in such close proximity to you, but I am nothing if not a gentleman."

"A gentleman?" Elissa laughed, stretching her arms up over her head and watching his eyes drift to the expansion of her cleavage at the motion. "Part of me wants to call your bluff on that and see just how long you'd last with such restrictions... but, in reality, I have enough gentlemen in my company, and you are such an entertaining distraction."

"Oh? Now **this** is intriguing! I shall have to redouble my efforts immediately." the assassin responded, moving closer to her side in response to the flirtation she extended to him. "There was a young elven dancer in Antiva City once, I actually managed to _stare_ her out of all seven of her skirts… it is a trick worth retrying."

Zevran lingered closer than he should have, testing his boundaries by running a finger along her collarbone. She was about to stop him when he pulled away of his own volition, hearing the voice of the Proving Master echo out over the ring.

"Another time, my Warden." Zevran smiled, bowing lightly to her as she moved out into the ring.

* * *

><p>"This is a Glory Proving, fought under the eyes of the Paragons of Orzammar, to honor the memory of King Endrin." the Master's voice boomed over the hissing mutterings of the crowd. "First up is Seweryn of the Warrior Caste. Many of you will remember when Seweryn made history as a lad of twelve by defeating his own father in this very ring!"<p>

The crowd roared as the dwarf lifted his sword and shield into the air and smiled in pride at the response he got from them.

"Today he fights as a champion for Prince Bhelen." the Master continued, and Elissa heard the scattered boos of those who supported Lord Harrowmont for the throne before the man began to talk over them. "Opposing him, in Lord Harrowmont's name, is a member of the famed Grey Wardens!"

There was a soft murmuring across the crowd, though it seemed more to be a whisper of surprise to see a Warden standing in the ring. Elissa laughed aloud when she heard Leliana's voice cheering loudly regardless of what the others around her might think.

"In the name of House Aeducan, and our future King Bhelen!" Seweryn cried out, taking a battle stance and meeting Elissa's eyes. The dwarf had requested to join the Grey Wardens when she had spoken with him prior to the tournament, but – as she and Alistair still had no idea how to perform a Joining - she'd been forced to put off that discussion for another time.

"I'm tired of talk." Elissa smirked, pulling loose her swords and bounding lightly from foot to foot. "Let's get to the hurting!"

"First fighter to fall is vanquished! **FIGHT**!" the Master cried out, and Elissa dodged nimbly out of the way as Seweryn barreled forward.

The warrior was all bluster and very little technique, so Elissa trounced him quickly. Zevran's armor allowed her to zip quickly out of his reach and circle back behind him to land the blow that drew first blood and ended the round almost before it had begun.

"The winner is the Grey Warden!" the Master cried out, and the crowd erupted in surprise and elation.

Elissa caught Alistair's eye as she exited back down the tunnel and tossed him a wink and a grin as she sheathed her blades before disappearing back into the darkness where Zevran waited for her.

"Beautifully executed, my Warden." the assassin smiled, checking the ties at her sides to make sure they hadn't loosened during her fight. "All the information I gathered prior to your entry led me to believe that the warrior would provide a much greater challenge to you. All records indicate that Seweryn is rarely trounced… so… **thoroughly**…"

The elf was smirking at her and stroking her side, the ease with which she had taken to the techniques he taught her increasing the fire in his blood where she was concerned all the more. He started to speak of it, but the Master's voice boomed out over the ring again and she bounded away from him with a smile.

* * *

><p>"This round the Warden will face the Warrior's Caste's twin terrors!" the Master announced, and the room exploded with cheers and jeers as Elissa recognized the two dwarves from whom Zevran had stolen documents the siblings had been using to blackmail one of Harrowmont's fighters on Bhelen's behalf. "The notorious duo, now fighting for Prince Bhelen, Myaja and Lucjan!"<p>

"May the stone honor you…" Myaja said, with a false bow, for Elissa could see the warrior's eyes held no respect or honor for the Wardens or her specifically.

"…When you fall." Lucjan finished, and they shared a laugh at Elissa's expense.

"Yes, yes... tough words for certain..." Elissa replied with a roll of her eyes, being sure to add great flourish to the bow that she offered to them and watch them flinch angrily in response. "Be certain to remember them when you're picking yourselves up out of the dirt."

When the Master called for the fight to begin, Elissa immediately went after the rogue, knowing that his speed made him far more dangerous to her. Incapacitating him with a blow to the back of his neck, she moved her focus to the warrior, dipping and dodging and eventually landing a blow with her foot that sent the woman's shield flying from her hand and clattering against wall behind her. Elissa smiled, watching the dwarf realize the advantage she had lost with the removal of this barrier. It took only a matter of moments for her to press that advantage and remove the warrior from the equation by landing a blow against her arm.

This left only her brother the rogue, who had woken from his stupor and was circling Elissa like an angry animal – furious that she had already taken his sister out of the fight. Elissa's much longer reach should have been her advantage, but the rogue was good – **very** good. He understood well the limitations of his size when facing a larger competitor, and used those limitations to his benefit – pressing in on her when she expected him to retreat and nearly landing a blow on a number of occasions.

This forced Elissa to dip into a resource she had been unsure of tapping, the _dances_ that Zevran had been teaching her over the past week. Though best performed with a partner, the movements were subtle and very fast – and not widely known to those outside of the Antivan Crows. She did not yet feel completely at ease with them, but seeing no other alternative, searched her mind for the one she felt to be the most useful and moved herself into the motions she had etched into her mind.

The dwarf tried to respond to her movements aggressively, but quickly became lost in the face of her unfamiliar tactics and was forced back into a defensive stance. Once that happened, the fight was as good as done – and Elissa quickly landed the blow she needed to end the round.

This time when the Master called the Warden as the winner, the crowd went crazy – and Elissa could barely hear Leliana cheering beneath the growing roar of the assembled dwarves. She panted heavily from the exertion of her fight, pulling up from where she had leaned against her knees to wave to the crowd as she ran back down the tunnel to where Zevran waited.

"Two on one and **still** you come out the victor." the elf said with a smile, tossing her his waterskin from which she drank greedily. "And with the use of an Antivan dance, no less… what a proud instructor I have become."

"Don't be too proud…" Elissa panted, taking another long drink before tossing the skin back to him. "I bumbled several of the steps horribly… luckily dwarven rogues appear to have no knowledge of the Antivan Crows or their fighting style so it all worked out in the end."

"I see many long hours of practice in our future, my Warden." Zevran smirked, watching her lips twitch into a small smile in response.

"Yes, and I can see how tortured you are about the prospect of having to tutor me further." Elissa laughed, jogging back into the ring as the Master called for the next combatants.

* * *

><p>Her next fight was against a woman that Elissa recognized as one of the Silent Sisters, an order of female warriors so diligent to their craft and the Paragon they honored, that they cut out their own tongues. Elissa had spoken with one of them, or rather – with her companion – before the fights and had nothing but respect for the women, regardless of their staunch support for Prince Bhelen.<p>

The two bowed low and reverently to one another before beginning the battle, the dwarven woman pulling loose a sword the size of Sten's axe as though it was feather light in her hands.

The fight was difficult and long, the dwarven warrior moving faster than Elissa could ever have expected in her much heavier armor, and swinging her huge blade as though it were nothing more than a dagger in her well trained hands.

Elissa became certain she was going to lose, having just barely avoided being tagged by her sword a number of times, and as she leaned against the wall fighting off exhaustion, she grasped desperately for ideas of what to do. She shot a quick glance over to Zevran who lingered in the shadows of the tunnel, and he made a quick smooth motion with his hand – sliding one palm against the other.

It was subtle, no one else would have even registered it as a signal, but Elissa knew exactly what he was telling her. It was risky, and if it went wrong it would go **horribly** wrong. The blow that Elissa would take had the potential to be deadly. Still, she saw no other option and so she drew in a shaky breath, tossing her longswords to the floor and pulling out the dagger she'd strapped to her thigh.

The crowd murmured around her in confusion that she would sacrifice the range and defensive capabilities of two longswords for a single dagger in the face of the Sister's broadsword – and somewhere among the rumbling she heard Alistair cursing her for her insanity.

She didn't have time to worry about it, to wonder if it was the right decision. She only had time to act… and so she did. Running forward with a great bellow, charging directly at the dwarven woman who raised her sword up over her head in preparation to land what she assumed would be the winning blow. Just before she reached edge of the woman's range, Elissa dropped to the ground, sliding on her back against the floor and through the dwarven warrior's legs – sliding her dagger against the inside of the woman's calf as she passed beneath.

A second too late the Sister's blade struck the floor hard where Elissa had just been, and she flinched for a moment realizing how easily that could have been her own skull, before the Master verified that she had indeed drawn first blood and ended the match.

The noise from the crowd at that point was insanity. Everyone was now cheering full force as the Sister leaned over and offered her hand to Elissa with a smile, sheathing her blade and joining her own applause with the riotous clamor of the arena. Even Elissa's companions were on their feet now, screaming and yelling with the dwarves.

Elissa's gamble had paid off, and she was on fire, the exhilaration of the fight and the thrill of victory pumping the powerful surge of adrenaline through her veins. She threw her arms up and her head back, turning around to smile at each curve of the arena as they whipped themselves into a frenzy.

* * *

><p>"Subtle, Zevran, <strong>very<strong> subtle." Elissa smiled, patting his arm as she moved into the tunnel to await her next battle.

"And yet you picked up on it as though I had whispered words directly into your ear." the assassin chuckled, leaning against the wall opposite her. "It makes me wonder what other wonderful things I could teach you if you would only provide me with the opportunity to do so…"

"Don't press your luck." Elissa warned, quirking an eyebrow at him as she jogged back out into the ring once again.

"This round will involve paired combat." the Master announced, going into some long diatribe about the history of dwarven combat before turning his attention back to Elissa. "Grey Warden, choose your second, for you will face Wojech Evo **and** Velanz!"

Elissa could see the assumption in Alistair's eyes, that she would call his name as her second, but she followed her gut response calling out another name instead.

"I choose, Zevran Arainai." Elissa said, and she sensed the assassin as he moved into the space beside her, turning her eyes reluctantly from Alistair who visibly deflated with her words.

Together, she and Zevran cut through the very heavily armed and armored Wojech and Velanz like a scythe through grain. They moved together almost as a single person, a grace and ease evident in their synchronicity that usually only came from years of experience fighting at someone's side. When the round ended, Elissa could see the surprise and approval written on the elf's face – as though he had not expected his lessons to take hold so easily within the young woman he had pulled under his wing.

"Perhaps my words were poorly chosen when I said that the life of an assassin was not for you, my Warden." Zevran chuckled as he took a pull from the waterskin then tossed it over to her. "The ease with which you have taken to the motions of such a life seems to contradict that assumption."

"Don't go signing me up for the Crows just yet." Elissa laughed, bouncing around on her toes trying to keep her blood up for what would be the final battle. "Though I do appreciate the complement."

* * *

><p>When she was called out into the ring, the Master quickly instructed her to amass a full squad, as the final battle would entail four on four combat. She raised her arm, making a small gesture with her fingers that brought Zevran back out of the tunnels to her side and they discussed quickly who to add in the other two positions.<p>

A few moments later she nodded, and he jogged over to request the other two from her gathered group of companions. Elissa watched as Sten and Morrigan rose and made their way out of the stands and down into the ring. Alistair crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes on her, pulling his arm away when Leliana tried to offer a comforting pat to his hand. She pulled her eyes away as the rest of her squad trickled into the ring, needing to focus her attention on the fight. She would have to diffuse Alistair later.

The final battle was brutal, and ended with a grudge match between Elissa and Morrigan and the only remaining member of the opposing squad left standing, Piotin Aeducan himself. His inability to redirect his fury onto anyone but Elissa had eventually been his downfall, Morrigan landing the blow that would end the match with a light – almost insulting – tap of her staff on his shoulder.

The furious dwarf slung his sword to the floor and stomped angrily out of the ring as the stands erupted around them. Elissa had won! She had **won**!

She threw her arms around Morrigan in a hug that the witch half-heartedly returned, as Zevran and Sten both returned to the ring and stood at her side.

"Do any here deny that the Warden has earned the title of this championship?" the Master cried, and the crowd became louder – chants of _Warden, Warden, Warden_ echoing through the arena – supporters of Bhelen and Harrowmont alike now on their feet and screaming their recognition of her victory. "Then, let it be my honor to declare the Grey Warden the Champion of this Proving!"

Elissa didn't quite know what to do. The noise was overwhelming, and all sorts of things rained down from the crowd; flowers, cards, trinkets of appreciation. She was trying to wrap her mind around it all when Sten grabbed her and hoisted her up onto his shoulder, his encouraging half smile offered in response to her questioning eyes.

"Enjoy your reward, kadan." Sten encouraged her. "It was hard earned."

So, just this once, she let herself go, raising her arms in victory – allowing the adrenaline and joy to flow through her fully as she savored these brief moments of appreciation for a job well done. Sten walked her around the circle, allowing her to reach out and touch the hands of the appreciative audience that cried out for her attention.

"Are we done yet?" she called down finally, forced to raise her voice so that it would carry over the roar of the crowd. "Because I could really use a drink…"

The qunari laughed, Elissa could feel the motion translate through his body and into his shoulder where she sat perched atop it. He nodded, moving them toward the exit before allowing her to drop back to the ground.

* * *

><p>When Elissa walked through the doors of Tapster's Tavern, the room fell into hysterics. A messenger from the Proving Grounds had already made it there and delivered the news that she was victorious, and so she was swarmed by well-wishers as she tried to press forward into the room. The head waitress shoved a full bottle of the house special into her hand, and Elissa tossed her head back, gratefully swallowing a large mouthful. Her head swam from the effects of the especially strong brew, and she moved to find Dulin before she became too drunk to function properly.<p>

"Atrast vala, Champion." Dulin smiled, waving her over to his table and watching as her companions took seats of their own – the large qunari remaining at her side, watchful as always. "I hear your performance at the Proving was nothing short of amazing."

"I would hope that such a performance has earned me an audience with your Lord at last." Elissa replied, stifling a burp that had built in her stomach with the second drink of ale she had taken.

"Truly there can no longer be any doubt where your sympathies lie." Dulin responded with a nod. "Lord Harrowmont will speak with you when you are ready. He has also asked me to relay that you will be given quarters for yourself, and your companions, at his personal estate. I have taken the liberty of having your effects delivered there from the Proving Grounds already."

"How thoughtful…" Elissa muttered, taking a long pull from the bottle and allowing the calming effects of the alcohol to wash over her. "I will be there momentarily. You can assure your Lord I will not leave him waiting long."

The dwarf rose with a slight bow, moving to the door to take word back to Lord Harrowmont.

When he was gone, Elissa fell back against the curve of the bench she sat on, taking another drink and trying not to think for a moment about the long road ahead, about the weight on her shoulders, about the complications that were sure to come as she tried to place a dwarf on the Orzammar throne. She just wanted to **feel** for a moment, to lose herself in the pleasant mix of alcohol and adrenaline pumping through her blood offering her an exhilarating and welcome intoxication.

When she opened her eyes, Alistair was watching her, a curious mix of emotions moving across his face. He was still angry with her, that much was evident, but there were other things swimming in those amber depths; respect, awe... desire. In that moment, Elissa believed that she had never seen anything more perfect than he appeared to her. He was handsome, and sweet, and pure of heart, and as much as he might frustrate her she could not deny how much she had come to care for and depend on him. It was not her love for him that brought her blood rushing wildly through her body at that moment though. She took another drink from her bottle and moved past her companions, all enjoying beverages of their own, reaching to take his hand and tug him up from the bench and away from the crowd.

"Where are we going?" Alistair asked, his voice sounding suspicious and concerned. He had read the look in Elissa's eyes and it was almost predatory. It unnerved him to contemplate what might be going on inside her head after the heated words they'd tossed about over the course of the day.

"I have to speak to Harrowmont, I thought you might like to come along." Elissa replied, taking another pull from the bottle and offering it to him - her emerald eyes passing slowly down the length of his body. "Try some, it's good."

He took the bottle and drank from it, thinking that he was going to need it if he allowed Elissa to drag him through the streets of Orzammar toward Harrowmont's estate.

* * *

><p>"I appreciate what you have done, Warden." the regal looking elder dwarf said when Elissa and Alistair finally came to stand before him. "I apologize for putting someone of your rank through such trials but… the climate that we find ourselves in… well…" he shrugged his shoulders when she did not respond, offering a slight bow of practiced nobility instead. "I am Lord Pyral Harrowmont, and I thank you for your efforts to help me procure and preserve King Endrin's throne."<p>

"All that I want is your support against the Blight." Elissa shrugged, sighing heavily and leaning back against the wall. Alistair inspected her cautiously, unsure if her impolite attitude was some new angle she was playing or simply the result of her over indulgence in whatever alcoholic beverage was in the bottle he held in his hand. "I have no interest in being **further** entrenched in these political maneuvers of yours, or Prince Bhelen's."

"Unfortunately, you will have to be if I am to provide you the aid that you desire." Harrowmont replied, not at all put off by her stance or disdainful speech patterns. He could read through her bluster, and knew she needed him just as much as he needed her. "If anything I say is to count for anything in the Assembly, then I will have to be King, and there is no sure way to get there at the moment. I don't suppose you've heard of a woman named Jarvia and the criminal cartel that she runs?"

"Let me guess," Elissa chuckled, though her laugh was humorless as she held out her arm and inspected her fingers as though there was something of interest there. "**I** take them out, **you** take the credit… is that the long and short of it?"

"That's about it, yes." Harrowmont answered, offering his own dark laugh in reply. "If you help me shut her down, it will show the Assembly that I am the right King to defend Orzammar."

"Fine, I'll deal with this... _Jarvia_." Elissa replied, leaning down to glare into the dwarf noble's eyes with a demand of her own. "But _when_ I do, **you** be ready to give me your word that you will help us against the Blight."

"Do this, and you have my word that _when_ I take the throne I will not stop until the Assembly sends you the troops that you require." Harrowmont assured her, reaching forward to take her hand in a powerful grip that would seal their agreement.

* * *

><p>Done with the conversation, Elissa led Alistair down the hall to the area that had been designated as the living quarters for the Champion and her companions. There were two front entry areas set up like lounges and then a long hall that split – ending in two separate open chambers with four bedrooms at each end.<p>

The bedrooms themselves were open, only delicately carved fence like structures creating a _pseudo-wall_ at the front. There were no doors or screens to provide privacy. In fact, the only completely private area in the whole space was the large bath chamber that had been placed in an area central to the two halls.

Elissa reached over and grabbed the bottle from Alistair as she walked through the archway to the room she had chosen, taking another long drink from it and sitting it down on the bedside table before beginning to remove her armor.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" Alistair asked, watching her stumble slightly under the weight of the alcohol and beginning to remove his own armor.

"Ugh, Alistair, **please** don't go all Templary me now…" Elissa sighed, falling over onto the bed with a laugh as she tried to tug off her boots. "Can't you just relax and enjoy a little revelry with me for a moment?"

"What is there for **me** to revel in?" he snipped, putting the last pieces of his gear on his armor stand before sitting down on the bed. "This victory was yours as you chose to exclude me from the battles even when given two opportunities to allow me to offer my aid."

"I knew you'd be mad about that." she said, grabbing the bottle and taking another pull – handing it over to him as she pulled off her leggings and stood only in her thin chemise and underthings. "But I did have reasons, and before you yell – it had nothing to do with you being King."

"What then?" Alistair asked, his eyes drifting to her legs and then sliding up as she worried with a cut at her hip. He took another long drink from the bottle, feeling the alcohol pulsing through him before handing it back to her.

"I chose the people I did because… well... Zevran and Morrigan don't fight fair," Elissa said honestly, shrugging her shoulders when his expression showed the he agreed with her assessment.

"What about Sten? He would never cheat. He's even more honorable than I am." he insisted, watching her crawl onto the bed after settling the bottle on the nightstand.

"Yes, but Sten terrifies most anyone who sees him." she laughed, crawling into his lap and starting to tug at his tunic with insistent fingers. "Did you **see** the look on Piotin's face when he walked out into the ring! I thought he might concede right there."

"I'm not done with this conversation, Elissa…" Alistair insisted, fighting against her but eventually forced to allow her to tug his shirt over his head to prevent her from tearing it off.

"I want you, Alistair…" Elissa breathed against the skin of his neck, sucking at him insistently while her fingers traced down his stomach toward his waistband.

"I can see that." he replied, sucking in a breath when her teeth grazed the skin on his shoulder – feeling himself begin to grow hard when faced with the full force of her attentions. "But there are no doors on these rooms and I don't like the idea of…"

"I **need** you, Alistair…" she insisted, rolling her hips against him and delighting when he thrust forward in response. "I need to feel you inside me…"

"Oh, for Andraste's sake, Elissa… I can't **think** when you say things like that." Alistair groaned, falling back against the bed when she shoved him lightly – pulling her chemise over her head and untying her breast band.

"I know." Elissa smiled, running her own hands across her breasts and watching his eyes darken as he warred between logic and desire – seeing the moment when desire won and he rolled them over with a growl, sliding his hand down inside her small clothes and working the steadily growing fire within her into a blaze with his touch.

There was a frantic burst of energy as they both tugged off the last pieces of clothing remaining, and Alistair buried himself inside her, setting a pace that he knew Elissa approved of. He had become accustomed to her breathing, the way she would moan and twitch as she grew closer to her climax – and so, with a quick flick of his thumb and press of his hips he brought her over the edge, enjoying the sensation of her body clenching tight around him.

He saw the moment she realized that he had not yet reached his own climax dawn in her eyes, and the grin that spread across her face when she knew that they had at last crossed the boundaries between the graceless fumblings of virgin hands into the sensuous realm of well-practiced lovers. Now they could learn each other's bodies, discover precisely what would ignite their deepest most intimate desires, understanding one another in ways that no other ever could. She was his, and he was hers, and nothing else mattered between them in the heavy air of their bedroom.

* * *

><p>It took a great deal of effort for Elissa and Zevran to uncover the information they needed to properly track Jarvia and her criminal cartel, which, oddly enough, provided the Wardens and their company a much needed though unexpected chance to relax within the protective walls of Orzammar.<p>

The dwarves had fallen in love with Elissa, and sought out the company of their new Champion wherever she went – forcing Sten to adopt the role of bodyguard whenever she ventured outside of Harrowmont's estate. The only group that did not seem to be fans were, unsurprisingly, Bhelen's own supporters who launched a couple of attacks against her before the body count communicated to the Prince that continued assaults against the Warden and her companions would only prove detrimental to his cause.

As Alistair spent most of his time by her side, rumors quickly spread through the city that he was her lover. There were worse things he could be, he thought with a shrug, settling himself into the table that had become their usual haunt in Tapster's Tavern and listening to the appreciative mumbles of the passers-by – a pair of pretty dwarven women tossing him a wink as they sauntered off to a dark corner.

Elissa laughed at him, squeezing his leg under the table and forcing him to work against his body's natural response to her touch. Their days had settled into a routine, wandering the city looking for information on the elusive Jarvia, meeting at the tavern for their evening meal and drinks, and finally retiring to their quarters to have each other until they collapsed in blissful exhaustion.

Alistair allowed himself to relax into the comfortable pattern of it, until he started to notice that there was always a block of time where he would lose track of Elissa, and that the assassin and the qunari would disappear suspiciously around the same time. The fact that Sten was a part of the curious absence left his nerves at ease that anything sexual was going on between Elissa and the assassin during the time he could not account for. Unfortunately, that meant that their disappearance could only mean one thing – they were doing something that Alistair would not approve of.

He could have, and perhaps **should** have, left well enough alone – just continued to enjoy their much needed and hard earned reprieve – but his conscience would not let him, and so he found himself trailing along behind Sten who was the last to make his way out of the tavern and toward the Proving Grounds.

When he came to a stop behind the qunari in the tunnel at the edge of the much smaller practice ring, his eyes went wide watching the fight in front of him. Elissa was locked in battle, the assassin at her side – the two moving together in the steps of the dance he had seen a glimpse of in the main ring days before, gliding around each other like a well oiled machine.

When their fight finished, the two strolled over toward the entry tunnel – and Alistair saw the trepidation in Elissa's eyes as they found his in the shadows. Sten reached out and tilted her chin up in the light, inspecting the cut on her lip with a grumble as she sent Zevran off to tell the fight organizer that they were done for the evening.

"It's alright, Sten." Elissa assured the qunari, meeting his eyes for a moment. "It's only a small cut, even Morrigan could heal it."

"You lowered your guard, kadan." Sten mused, dropping his hand. "You are not yet good enough to ignore your weaknesses."

"Point taken." she replied, chuckling as she caught the coin purse the assassin tossed to her before he and the qunari took their leave – knowing the Wardens would be engaging in a discussion not meant for their ears.

"So, this is where you've been going?" Alistair asked, suddenly the sensitive way she would flinch if he hit a particular spot and the lengthy _conversations_ with Wynne all fell into place in his mind.

"Yes." she replied simply, moving out of the arena and down the long hall that would lead them out of the Proving Grounds.

"Why?" he queried, unable to decipher what her motivations could be. "If you wanted to spar you only needed to ask, any one of us would have done so."

"Sparring isn't the same, Alistair." Elissa replied, shaking her head as she pressed open the doors of the grounds and moved out into the commons. "I know how you fight. I know how **all** of you fight… I can't learn from sparring the way I can learn from an actual battle. I need the unpredictability."

"Okay, I'll give you that – but why not tell me?" Alistair said, still not able to let it drop. "I could have joined you, or just watched like Sten if you were afraid I'd damage the royal blood bank."

"I never asked Sten to come." she snorted, rolling her eyes as she pressed through the doors that separated the main commons from the diamond quarter. "But you know how he is. He followed us and there was no way I was getting him to leave without having to fight him again. Once was enough of that, thanks…" she smiled over at Alistair, but his face remained neutral. "As far as asking you to join… these fights aren't exactly **legal**…"

"You've involved yourself in an **illegal** fighting ring?" he hissed, looking around them when Elissa shushed him and shoved him unceremoniously inside Harrowmont's front door – dragging him off into the hall of their quarters before speaking any further.

"It's nothing that could get us in any trouble, it's just not sanctioned by the official Proving Masters." Elissa assured him, pulling him into their quarters and starting to take off her armor. "The rules are… well, there **aren't** really any rules. It's an anything goes kind of battle, any weapons, poisons and traps, even blood magic…" Alistair hissed across the room and she waited for him to fall silent before continuing. "And you fight until someone surrenders."

"Blood magic and poison? Fighting until someone begs for mercy or is killed?" Alistair spat, standing up and striding over to her in frustration. "Why would you take such risks, Elissa?"

"The coin is good?" she answered, raising an eyebrow as she pushed him back against the wall and slinked over to him like a jungle cat – walking her fingers up his chest as she leaned her body in against him. "Can we have the rest of this conversation without pants?"

"What?" he sputtered incredulously, his strong arms snapping out and holding her at arm's length. "Are you **mad**? You honestly think I can be with you right now when I know you're worked up with bloodlust and the touch of the assassin's hands all over you?"

"Is that what you think?" Elissa replied, eyes gone wide in shock.

"What else am I supposed to think?" Alistair replied, watching her tilt her head and inspect him.

"It isn't bloodlust, Alistair – it's endorphins and adrenaline – it makes me feel wonderfully alive and has nothing to do with Zevran **or** his hands…" she insisted, pulling his arms apart and moving closer to him. "It's you… it's **only** you… can you not feel it?"

"Feel what?" he asked, swallowing as her breath ghosted against the skin of his chest where she had pulled the laces apart and started to press her lips against it.

"The taint." Elissa replied continuing to kiss at his chest, pushing up his shirt and moving down his stomach.

"Y-you can read it?" Alistair asked, pulling her up to meet his eyes before she could move any lower. "When did that happen?"

"I'm not sure exactly, I just started sensing it one day. I can feel them, the darkspawn, crawling around in the earth." she whispered, watching him recognize the same sensation within himself. "And, I don't know if it's the potion that Avernus gave me or if it's something that happened because we've lain together… but I can sense **you**… your blood." She closed her eyes, and he watched her run her fingers down her throat lingering over her sternum where the taint pulled strongest. "Your blood calls to me, lights fires in my body that are... **difficult** to ignore… it's… intoxicating…" she opened her eyes again and Alistair saw they were dark with desire "Can you not feel it?"

He thought about it for a moment, reaching inside himself and trying to focus on her specifically. He had heard about other Wardens learning to track each other but had never thought to try it since she was almost always by his side and didn't really require tracking.

She watched him anxiously, seeing the exact moment when he found her within the chaos of the hive mind – focusing in on the distinct song of her own blood. She was right, it was... powerful. It burned like a fire in his veins, calling out to him - forcing his body to react with a will that was almost not his own.

"H-how could I have missed **that**?" he said, grabbing her suddenly – reversing their positions and pressing her against the cool stone wall of their room.

He slid his hands under her, pulling her up and waiting for her to wrap her legs around him before he moved one hand over and shoved his pants and small clothes far enough down to free his now massive erection.

"Give me a second to…" Elissa moaned, trying to pull out of his grasp long enough to remove her own underthings.

"No… time…" Alistair growled, and she heard the audible rip as he tore them open and buried himself into her – pressing her spine hard against the wall.

"Alistair!" she gasped, never having seen anything like this out of the typically docile warrior.

"I'll apologize later." he assured her, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in again.

The rest of their session passed in a blur of moans and screams and gasping breaths until they both lay panting across the bed.

"That was…" Alistair began, unable to keep the dopey grin off of his face as he looked at her – brushing a sweaty curl of hair out of her face.

"Spectacular!" Elissa finished; reaching over to lay her hand over his heart and watching him cover it with his own.

They lay like that for a few moments longer before Zevran's voice broke the silence, sending Alistair scrambling under the blankets and Elissa tossing his shirt over her head and stifling a laugh before the assassin strolled into their room.

"Tsk. What a shame," the elf said, shamelessly allowing his eyes to pass over Alistair's bare chest and Elissa's exposed legs in appreciation. "It appears I missed tonight's activities."

"I'll assume you've discovered something rather than pound you into paste for spying." Elissa replied, taking the piece of paper he offered her and starting to read over it – swatting his not so subtle attempts to lift the bottom of Alistair's shirt and get a look at her bare behind away with a practiced hand.

"I think that will be enough to give us cause to look in on her movements." Zevran explained, watching her toss the missive over to Alistair before turning to escort him out of the room.

"I thank you for your efforts." she smiled, giving him a playful shove to send him on his way. "And now, I release you from your duties for the evening. I'll see you in the morning."

He grumbled about being excluded from all the fun, leaving Elissa laughing as she crawled back into bed and tried to encourage Alistair to put her soundly to sleep for the night.


	32. Chapter 32: Carta Chameleon

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale._

_**A/N:**__ Last bit in Orzammar before we make it to the Deep Roads!_

_Thanks to my readers, followers and reviewers! You guys keep me working :) Additional thanks to my Lady Beta **artemiskat**.  
><em>

_Minor edits submitted 10-12-11.  
><em>

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Thirty-Two: Carta Chameleon<strong>_

The next morning found the motley group of companions moving through the dwarven city with a purpose, tracking Zevran's information to a small import business off the main commons. When they opened the doors, it appeared they had walked in on a shakedown in progress. The merchant crouched trembling against the back table, looking at Elissa with wary eyes as she approached the menacing pack of Carta members holding him at sword point.

"T-this is all I have right now." the merchant said, reaching into his pocket and handing over his coin purse with shaking hands. "I could get more if I sell something…"

He looked at Elissa with hopeful eyes. Either she was there to make a purchase, or she was there to offer her aid – either way, it worked out in his favor.

"Well, well…" the man who appeared to be the leader of the small group of men said, turning to inspect Elissa and her companions with a smirk. "Looks like we have visitors… friends of yours?"

"Is there a problem here, good ser?" Elissa asked, meeting the merchant's eyes with the polite grin of practiced nobility. "Are these miscreants threatening you?"

"P-please! Don't get involved in this!" the merchant insisted, looking at Elissa's pretty face and making the mistaken assumption that she was out of her league at the hands of the brutal Carta men. "You don't know what they're like."

"Pipe down, Figor!" the man yelled, making the merchant cringe in on himself in fear as he strode over to Elissa and favored her with an elaborate bow. "These are dangerous times in Orzammar, stranger… lucky for us, the merciful Jarvia is offering protection from the chaos…" When he stood straight again he moved around her, looking over her gear and weaponry with a knowledgeable eye. "You're wearing some mighty fancy stuff there... that **might** make you a target for some of the… **lesser** elements here in the city…" Moving back in front of her he came to a stop, crossing his arms and inspecting her with a smile. "I **could** offer you the Carta's guarantee of safety, for the reasonable price of ten gold sovereigns… otherwise, I can't really say what might happen…"

"Take a **good** long look at me." Elissa said, leaning forward until she was inches from the dwarf's face – watching him tug his eyes up from her ample cleavage as the smirk fell away from his face when he saw the look in her eyes. "I just made a mockery of your Provings – both above **and** below the table – do you **really** want to start this?"

"Whoa, whoa!" the man replied, holding his hands up in surrender and stopping his men from advancing with a flick of his chin. "I got no beef with the Champion. Let's go boys…"

He set his men into motion with a wave of his hand, tossing a half polite bow to Elissa as he shut the door behind them.

"Correct me if I'm wrong… but weren't those men supposed to give us an idea of where we would find Jarvia?" Alistair asked, watching their lead disappear out the door without having given them even a minimal idea of where they might find the woman in charge. "Should we not have questioned them before letting them go?"

"Tsk, tsk… do you not trust my skills of deduction yet, darling?" Elissa asked him with a smirk, crossing her arms and waiting for something – what, he had no idea. "Those men are too well trained to give up any information on her whereabouts through pure coercion… and I have neither the time nor the patience to torture them for it."

"Well, I wasn't suggesting you **torture** them, just that…" Alistair began, jumping and clutching at his chest when the assassin materialized out of thin air at his side. "**Holy** Ma… I **wish** you wouldn't do that!"

"Where did they go?" Elissa asked, sharing a soft laugh with Zevran at Alistair's expense though she patted the Templar's shoulder reassuringly.

"Dust Town, just as I'd assumed." Zevran replied, opening the door and following behind her.

"Excellent, I have a contact there who may be able to provide us with a better idea of where to continue looking." Elissa responded, waving the others along as she moved them into the slums of the city.

* * *

><p>Dust Town was an ugly place. Dark and dirty and packed full of the dregs of society – save a few poor souls who simply found themselves stuck there simply because they were castaways of the dwarven Caste system.<p>

Elissa had come to Dust Town on several occasions, venturing out with Zevran in search of one thing or another that had gone missing in the city – keeping herself busy while they waited for Harrowmont to give them **some** idea of when he might be able to provide the aid he had promised them.

It was during those times that she had forged a tenuous friendship with a hobbled dwarven woman, and it was her knowledge Elissa now sought in order to proceed with her quest to find the Carta's leader.

"Didn't get enough of the architectural beauty of Dust Town?" the woman said with a laugh, pulling herself slowly to her feet and leaning to take her weight off her bad leg. "You need ol' Nadezda to play tour guide for you, Champion?"

"Not today, thanks." Elissa replied with a warm smile. "I was wondering if you knew of a woman named Jarvia."

"Know her? I used to run with her!" Nadezda replied, her eyebrow shooting up cautiously at the Warden, wondering what she wanted with the merciless Carta leader. "She took over the Carta not more than a year ago, and already she's got every duster with legs toting swords in her name."

"You wouldn't happen to know where I could find her?" Elissa continued, watching the woman shy away cautiously and reading her concern. "Don't worry, 'Dezda – I won't mention your name. If they come after you they'll have **me** to answer to - and even Jarvia should know what that means by now."

"Aye, I imagine your name alone will give the Carta pause after that debacle at the Provings." the dwarf replied, her tension easing back into an open smile. "It won't be easy to find her though, Warden. She's gotten **real** careful since Beraht died, real paranoid. Most of the Carta members are carrying these finger-bone tokens. She scratches some mark into them that I haven't seen – something to designate that they came from her so they can't be duplicated." she explained, seeing the idea pop into Elissa's head then fade away. "There are doors into the main base all over the city, but only one is ever open at a time… and if you show up without a token, you'll never even know it's there."

"I don't suppose you know where I can get a good look at one of these tokens, or get my hands on one of the men who carries them?" Elissa asked, watching the woman's eyes drift to a hovel in the back corner with concealed intent.

"Can't help you there, salroka." Nadezda replied, shrugging her shoulders and watching the imperceptible nod the Warden gave her to acknowledge she had followed her signal. "The Carta members keep a hold on those tokens **real** tight."

"Oh, well." Elissa shrugged, reaching forward and holding the woman's hand between her own – pressing the handful of sovereigns into her palm so that the other beggars clustered nearby would not see it and pounce on her. "I must thank you for your assistance once again."

"Anytime, Champion." the dwarf smiled, her eyes twinkling when she realized what the Warden had done. "I'll think of you tonight when I go to bed with a full stomach."

* * *

><p>"Just when I think I can't possibly love you more…" Alistair said, pressing an open palm to the small of her back as Elissa opened the door to the hovel her friend had indicated.<p>

"Oh shush, you!" Elissa admonished, winking at him as she moved inside. "I'm in work mode now. You'll tarnish this hard-ass image I've worked so diligently to establish."

"Yes, yes… sorry boss…" Alistair chuckled, backing away from her with a salute as she turned to face the only half surprised group of men inside.

"Well, look what we have here…" the leader chuckled, shaking off his surprise and moving closer to Elissa. "Jarvia said you were looking for trouble, Champion. Looks like you found it."

Elissa didn't even take the time to initiate any further conversation, sending her group into action against the heavily armed Carta Thugs. At this point, she needed to send a message that she was not to be trifled with – and also, to ensure that the idea of whom she had gotten her information from was not likely to be leaked back to Jarvia. She did not enjoy the idea that anyone would seek to further harm Nadezda because she had chosen to show the woman some kindness.

When all of the thugs but the leader were dead, Elissa tugged the beaten man over to a corner and slung him hard against the wall – letting Zevran and Sten pull him back to his feet and hold him up against it so that she could question him properly.

"D-don't kill me!" the thug pleaded, his eyes horrified and wide as he looked around the room and took in the carnage that had befallen the now bloody piles of body parts once belonging to his squad of men. "Sweet bloody **Stone**, look at them all!" He turned his eyes back to Elissa, a new-found respect there among the tendrils of fear. "Sodding ancestors, what do they teach women on the surface? You fight like the bleedin' Archdemon itself!"

"So I've been told…" Elissa replied, sniffing arrogantly as she continued to foster the image she needed to insure he would cooperate. "Now… I suggest you start singing about where I might find this, **Jarvia**, before I decide that you are of more use to me in pieces with your companions on the floor."

"The base is below the city!" the dwarf yelled, not even hesitating to flip on his boss who seemed much less frightening at the moment than the human woman towering in front of him. "Y-you can get to it through the false front of the third house on this row… j-just put this token through the slot, and it'll open." he assured her, gesturing to a satchel attached to his belt which Elissa set Zevran digging through with a slight nod – accepting the worn finger-bone that he pressed into her open palm. "Will… will you let me go now?"

"I see no reason **not** to…" Elissa shrugged, indicating that Sten and Zevran should release him – but stopping him with a palm to his chest as he tried to dash past her. "You **won't** want to be at Jarvia's when I get there…"

"B-bless you…" the dwarf sputtered, running out the door like hell itself was on his heels.

"You are becoming frighteningly good at that." Alistair said, laughing nervously as he followed Elissa out of the shack and toward the door the thug had indicated. "I almost believed you were the bloody menace you pretend to be."

"I tend to favor the more subtle arts of persuasion, but I am starting to learn that intimidation has its uses." Elissa chuckled, looking at Alistair from the corner of her eye as she knelt down and located the token slot with the palm of her hand. "And I **am** a bloody menace, when I need to be."

"I'll give you that…" Alistair responded, smirking at her when the token fell into place and they heard the locking mechanism of the door give way allowing them entry to the Carta base.

Just as the thug had said, the house front was a complete fabrication. Behind the door was a series of caves leading deep down into the ground beneath Orzammar. They moved forward into an open section of rooms where several more Carta members milled about.

"What's the password?" one of them said, holding out an open palm to stop their progress as his men moved into position around them.

"Klaatu Barada Nikto?" Elissa replied, raising an eyebrow at them and chuckling softly at a private joke from her childhood, until she noticed the dwarves around her start to reach for their weapons. "No, wait, wait…" she said, waving her hands around and then grabbing her head as though to focus her thoughts. "Sorry… taken a couple of blows to the head, you know? Memory not what it used to be… I got it now though I'm positive! Jarvia sucks lizard balls!" The sound of steel sliding against weapon sheaths echoed in the tight halls as both enemy and friend produced weapons around her. "Not it either, well bollocks! How about **die**,** scum die**!" she yelled, pulling loose her own weapons with a grin. "Will that do?"

"Looks like we have a martyr boys." the doorman smirked, pushing forward against her.

A few minutes later they all lay dead on the floor and Elissa and her companions were pressing forward into the maze of tunnels.

"Sometimes you enjoy things that you really, **really** shouldn't… you know?" Alistair chuckled, sliding his sword and shield back into place.

"We're mucking about in the Orzammar underbelly, hoping to find a criminal mastermind, so we can put a King on a throne, and **finally **get the aid we need to combat the Blight that threatens to wipe out **all** of Ferelden while we waste our time down here…" Elissa snorted, wrinkling her brow at him. "I take joy where I find it. If it's offensive, then oh well... I'll be sure to send out letters of apology after the Archdemon is dead."

Anything Alistair had to offer in reply fell silent as he thought on her words and realized she was right. As off-putting as it might seem to an outsider, they **had** to laugh at inappropriate times, to turn their stress into a joke, to love even when they should not. They didn't have the luxury of waiting for any other time because logic seemed to dictate that time would never come.

* * *

><p>They moved forward quickly through the Carta's tunnel system, putting down wave after wave of thugs and giant spiders (<em>which Elissa killed with barely concealed disgust – their gooey guts coating everything they touched<em>). They even came across a few qunari mercenaries, whom Sten dispatched quickly and without mercy, earning a curious look from Elissa to which he did not reply.

There were a ridiculous amount of traps and hidden assassins stationed throughout the weaving warren of tunnels, and Zevran's assistance to Elissa in disarming and perceiving them proved to the group just how useful to them the elven assassin had become. Even Alistair had to admit their motions would have been much slower and fraught with danger had he not been among them to share the burden that usually fell to Elissa alone.

Shortly after freeing a couple of prisoners from the Carta jail (_the two dwarves scurrying thankfully to the surface with the scavenged armor and weaponry Elissa had provided them_), they finally located the elusive leader. Jarvia stood at the back of a large room, surrounded by a maze of traps and a large battalion of men, the assassins not missed by Zevran's well trained eyes though they lurked in corners and shadows.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that even when he finally realized that we're taking the city, Harrowmont **still** couldn't be bothered to send his own men." Jarvia laughed, crossing her arms and inspecting the woman in front of her with an unimpressed smile.

"Pfft… what Harrowmont's men know about weaponry and combat would fit on the tip of my dainty little finger." Elissa chortled, regarding her own hand with a smile. "And you **know** that, so I'm sure you didn't actually believe those idiots are who he would choose to send after you."

"Ha! I suppose you're right there, surfacer!" Jarvia laughed, but even the sound of something so light became menacing when drifting between her thin angry lips. "It's too bad you picked the wrong side of this fight, Warden. When will men learn, it doesn't matter who's King, as long as there's a Queen!"

"You know…" Elissa said thoughtfully, tapping at her lips with a finger. "You are **awfully** cocky for someone who's entire battalion now lies dead in the tunnels behind me…"

"I'm cocky because I've earned it, unlike **you** little girl!" Jarvia hissed, pulling loose her swords and sending her men into action with a haughty tilt of her chin. "You will pay for their deaths a hundred times over, I assure you," she continued, settling back in her nest of traps while her men advanced toward Elissa and her companions. "Kill them all, no… strike that, keep the pretty young Warden **alive**… I have plans for her."

Elissa and Zevran dashed into the room, dodging dagger and sword while trying to disarm traps beneath Leliana's cover fire and Morrigan's hexes and holds.

Elissa lost her focus at one point, dashing over in a panic to dispatch an assassin that had managed to get the drop on Alistair before he landed a blow with his poisoned dagger – realizing too late what that action had relayed to Jarvia. The woman's eyes twinkled with unadulterated malice as she disappeared in a puff of smoke – leaving Elissa spinning desperately for any sign of her in the room.

"Zevran?" Elissa cried out, enlisting his aid and watching his head shake quickly as he pulled his eyes up from the traps he was working with, unable to locate her even with his more educated eyes.

The ranks of the Carta were thinning quickly, Sten and Morrigan clearing through them with practiced efficiency while Leliana offered her own disarming skills to the maze of traps still remaining in Elissa's absence. Elissa spun and twisted, breathing heavily as she scanned the room again and again trying to find any sign of where Jarvia had gone.

"E-Elissa…" Alistair groaned, and she heard the clink of his plate hitting the floor behind her before turning to find him on his knees – the malignant dwarf grinning over her shoulder as she pulled out the knife she'd just jammed through the bindings that held the plate armor at his side.

"Alistair! No!" Elissa screeched, advancing on the dwarven woman furiously as the rogue tossed the Templar to the side like nothing more than a broken plaything.

"I'm going to tie you up in the corner and make you **watch** while I cut out your lover's perfect teeth and string myself a bracelet!" Jarvia hissed, swiping her sword and dagger out at Elissa in a deadly swath.

"You will do **no** such thing you bitch!" Elissa spat, swatting her blows away with her longswords as though they were no more than the wing beats of a tiny fly.

The adrenaline within her had taken over, molding her fury over the power in her tainted blood and fusing the Warden into the twisted creature she became when her anger took full control of her body and mind.

Zevran started to move forward to aid her when he had finished with the last of his traps and the rest of Jarvia's men had fallen to the ground in their own growing blood pools – but Sten held him back with a long arm – silently communicating to the assassin and the remaining companions that this fight was best left to Elissa alone.

Wynne knelt to tend to Alistair while Elissa finished off the malicious dwarf, lopping off her head in one swift motion and sending it tumbling into the back of the room with a vicious kick before it even made contact with the floor.

It took her a moment to come back to her own mind, panting and hissing through clenched teeth even after the battle was finished. It was Sten's hand at her shoulder that finally cleared the blood red vengeance from her eyes, and allowed her to focus on the crumbled body of Alistair once again.

"Is he…" Elissa cried, dropping to her knees beside him – bringing her shaking bloody hands to his pale face and closed eyes in fear.

"He's alive, and stable." Wynne replied, patting Elissa's hand in comfort and hearing the younger woman stifle back a sob against her fisted hand. "But he's lost a lot of blood. We will need to get him back to Harrowmont's estate so that I can inspect the wound and treat him properly."

Elissa nodded, turning to Sten and communicating a silent plea to him that required no words. The qunari nodded, handing weapon, shield and pack over to Zevran and gathering the wounded Templar up in his arms – falling in line behind Elissa as she pushed up the tunnel to the surface.

They emerged in the Blacksmith's shop, a place Elissa had visited many times over the days of their stay in Orzammar – having had no idea that a tunnel to the Carta's secret base was carved and hidden in a sidewall.

Elissa had no words of apology to offer the Smith for the damage she did to the wall of his shop when she tore her way through the ornamental carving that blocked her entry, barely even glancing at him as she barreled out of the shop and through the streets of Orzammar – watching commoner and noble alike shuffle out of their way, unsettled by the blood covered Champion and her haggard looking crew.

* * *

><p>When they reached Harrowmont's estate, Elissa sent everyone but Zevran away – going to meet with the dwarf noble while Alistair was treated for his wounds. Her patience wore paper thin as she entered Harrowmont's private quarters, and she found herself with little tolerance for the niceties required of upper crust society.<p>

"I heard the news… Jarvia and her Carta are dead." Harrowmont said, taking a sip from his gem encrusted chalice as he lounged before his fire. "I suppose it was unrealistic of me to think she might surrender."

"Your task is done." Elissa said, having no patience for the man or his empty words when her lover lay suffering with a grave injury in a room down the hall. "When can you speak to the Assembly?"

"I have no desire to go back on my word, but…" Harrowmont began with a shrug and a long sigh as he sat the goblet down on the table in front of him. "When Bhelen heard the news about Jarvia, he raised the stakes…" Elissa started to take an angry step forward, reaching for the dagger concealed at her thigh – but Zevran stopped her with a light hand at her wrist. "He is forcing a vote on the monarchy in the next two days – and by law, that keeps the Assembly from hearing any other pleas," the noble continued, his eyes drifting to the subtle hold the elf had on the woman's wrist and not missing the information that communicated to him. "To help with your troops, it appears I will require even more of your assistance… tell me, Warden, what do you know of Paragon Branka?"

"It seems there is **always** another step with you, my Lord." Elissa hissed, her lips pinched and her eyes narrowed. "And my patience for it is waning... I suggest you get to the point."

"As you wish." Harrowmont shrugged, crossing his fingers across his abdomen with the uninhibited arrogance that only came with true nobility. "As a Paragon, Branka outranks even the Assembly. Were she to offer her support for me as King, this awful debate would be over."

"If it will get you the throne and **end** these games you play, then I will find this Branka." Elissa replied, pulling loose from Zevran's grasp and crossing her arms over her chest in frustration.

"Excellent. My men have traced Branka's disappearance to an ancient crossroads known as Caridin's Cross." Harrowmont explained, slipping her a map, which she refused to take – instead nodding to Zevran who gathered it up in his fingers and tucked away. "It is many miles below where we dwarves normally venture, but this map should lead you there without incident. You only need enter the Deep Roads through the mines."

Elissa snorted, rolling her eyes at the not so subtle way he insinuated how _easy_ this new task should prove to be, and moved out of his room back down the hall to where Alistair was resting.

* * *

><p>When she reached the bedchamber they shared, only Wynne remained at his side, mixing together several different vials and lining the new concoctions up on the bedside table. Alistair lay across the bed, his armor removed and replaced by bandages wound tight across his body, though blood still seeped through – dark red against the pale skin and white bandages on his abdomen.<p>

"How is he?" Elissa whispered, beginning to remove her armor and weaponry with as much silence as possible.

"Sleeping." Wynne replied, moving to stand beside Elissa when she finally became still at his side. "The wound was grave, but I was able to reach him in time. He just needs rest now."

Elissa nodded, kneeling down at the bedside and reaching up to take his hand – stroking her thumb gently against his fingers. She didn't notice Wynne leaving; she just focused on the man in front of her and how deep her feelings for him had grown.

She'd cared for Alistair from the beginning, and had opened herself to the idea of loving him fully one day… but had never expected to fall so hard for him so quickly. As much as she knew it should warm her to be faced with the reality that she was indeed capable of such love once again – even after all the damage Nathaniel had done - she could find herself feeling nothing in these moments but the icy grip of sheer terror.

To love like this, to give yourself over so completely, it left you open to massive, **horrible** despair – and she knew this all too well. She supposed she hadn't believed that she would feel that way with Alistair should they fail to succeed as a couple – that she would be able to simply deal with the loss of him in whatever way it would come. Their lives as Wardens offered too many options to separate them for her to allow any comfort in the idea that he would always be with her.

Somehow, over the days and now weeks in Orzammar, that had changed – and Elissa was now faced with the truth – the brutal, **awful** truth. She had fallen madly and completely in love with Alistair Theirin, and when faced with that – she was afraid, truly afraid, for the first time in many, **many** years.


	33. Chapter 33: A Drunken Dwarf in the Deep

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to my readers, followers and reviewers! Additional thanks to my wonderful Lady Beta, **artemiskat**.  
><em>

_Hoping to finish out the Deep Roads today, if I'm lucky I'll get another chapter up as I'm going out of town for the weekend and won't be able to get another one up until Monday otherwise._

_Fingers crossed!_

_Minor edits 10-12-11.  
><em>

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Thirty-Three: A Drunken Dwarf in the Deep Roads<strong>_

When Alistair awoke the next morning it felt as if he was pulling a heavy woolen blanket away from his eyes. He shook his head, mumbling something aloud to his fellow Wardens – perhaps an apology for oversleeping, perhaps a string of curses… his muddled brain couldn't be sure.

When his eyes adjusted to the dim lamplight of the stone room, it became clear to him that he was not in his tent at Ostagar as his trauma-addled brain had made him believe. He needn't worry about any apologies he had been formulating for the other Wardens. They were all dead. He was the only one left... he and one other.

_Elissa_, his mind whispered – and he barely had to try to track the song that called from her blood to his. It drew his eyes down to where she had fallen asleep, face pressed against his hand, long fingers twined into his own.

He started to reach for her, but his wounded side protested, forcing a pained groan between his clenched jaws even though he tried to stifle it. He heard the pattern of her breathing change and knew that he had woken her – though she was slow to stir against his skin.

The mop of red curls rose up slowly and she shoved them back from her face, yawning with exhaustion and scratching at her sleep clouded eyes. Alistair saw the moment she realized that he was awake, the addled emeralds of her eyes suddenly flashing bright again. She froze in place as though afraid that any sudden movements would make this dream fade again.

"You could have slept on the bed, Elissa." Alistair said, his voice soft in its criticism as he stroked at her hand with his thumb. "Kneeling on the floor like that can't have been comfortable for you."

"I don't even remember falling asleep." Elissa replied, her penetrating gaze holding steadily to his eyes as though she wanted to memorize every minute fleck of color within them. "I only meant to close my eyes and think for a moment."

"You must have been thinking very hard," he added, starting to chuckle but ending it abruptly when his side pained him, and he brought up his other arm to clutch at it.

"I was…" she answered cryptically, getting to her feet and retrieving the potion that Wynne had left for when Alistair awoke before she climbed onto the bed at his side. "Wynne said I should give you this if you started moving about again. It will ease the pain. She did not fully close the wound because we needed the last of the poison to bleed out first. I will go and retrieve her to heal the remaining damage when you're ready – but I'm afraid there is no way to avoid a scar."

"A wise woman told me once that battle scars were hard earned and something to be proud of." Alistair smiled, watching the flicker of a smile pass across the tension in her face as she inspected the mostly closed gash in his side.

"Yes, well, **that** woman was an idiot." Elissa grumbled, tracing her fingers along the edges of the puckered wound and remembering him pale and silent on the floor of Jarvia's lair. "You should avoid them at all costs and keep your perfect skin exactly as it is at this very moment."

"I'm afraid I'm in the wrong line of work for that," he laughed, reaching for her and tilting her chin up so that he could look at her face. "I'm going to be okay, Elissa – I'm just a little sore that's all."

She nodded but did not reply, squeezing his hand and getting up from the bed.

"I'm going to go get Wynne. We should get packed and moving as soon as you're feeling up to it," she explained, stopping in the doorway when he called out to her.

"Get going? Did we not complete the task that Harrowmont set out for us when you dropped that crazy little woman to the Stone?" Alistair asked, wondering what he had missed in his unconsciousness.

"It seems that in order to get Harrowmont on the throne we now require the support of a Paragon." Elissa sighed, rubbing her face in frustration. "And the only one alive is in the Deep Roads."

"Elissa… the Deep Roads are serious business…" he warned, pulling himself awkwardly into a sitting position before Elissa dashed back over and settled him back against the bed with a gentle but firm push of her hand.

"I **know** that, Alistair." she hissed, her eyes communicating that he was **not** to move again until Wynne had finished patching his wound. "The Deep Roads are where Wardens go to die – they are dark and dangerous and filled with all sorts of horrible things. I am not a fool."

"I wasn't saying that you were." Alistair sighed, wondering if there would ever be a time that he didn't choose the wrong thing to say to her. "I just wanted to make sure you understood that this will not be easy."

"Nothing ever is…" Elissa said sadly, patting his face and moving off to find their healer.

* * *

><p>A couple of hours later, Alistair was healed but sore, and Elissa had gathered everyone else near the stairs that led to Orzammar's mine entrance. She checked and double-checked their supplies, having been told that once they were down in the depths of the dwarven underworld – it could be weeks before they reached the surface again.<p>

"If you have forgotten it, then I'm afraid it is best to stay that way now, my Warden." Zevran insisted as she checked over his pack once again.

"The elf is right, kadan," Sten grumbled, refusing to allow her access to the satchel anchored to his own broad shoulders. "You are wasting time with this futile exercise. We should get moving now."

"All right, all right!" Elissa huffed, waving her hands around in frustration and moving down the stairs. "I'll not press for fear of a mutiny, but you'll thank me later when we're eating something **other** than rat meat down in those horrid little tunnels!"

"Oi. Stranger!" a gruff redheaded dwarf that smelled like a brewery muttered, stumbling directly into her path and very nearly toppling her over as he bumped against her knees. "You seen a Grey Warden hereabouts? I heard rumor that he… or was it she…" He tugged at his beard thoughtfully for a moment before turning his bleary eyes back to her. "You understand this was **many** mugs ago… but I heard that this Warden was searching for Branka on Lord Harrowmont's command."

"The Warden is a **she**..." Elissa replied, crossing her arms and inspecting him cautiously.

"Well, if you're the best they've got, then standards must have fallen way down…" he said with a hiccup and a burp, letting his eyes wander where Elissa would rather they didn't. "Not that you aren't a looker… yeah… but pretty I doubt the Wardens **need** that…" He seemed to realize that wasn't his point, shaking away some of the drunkenness and refocusing himself when it became apparent that Elissa was not amused with his ramblings. "Say, could I ask you a favor?"

"You insult me, then ogle me, and **now** you wish to make a request?" Elissa laughed, unable to keep herself from smiling at the sheer size of the man's balls if he would dare to do such a thing with the reputation she had earned in the city walls after the fall of Jarvia's Carta… of course, he could be too drunk to know of such things. "That seems an odd way to butter someone up, don't you think?"

"Name's Oghren," the man said, jamming a stubby arm out and waiting for her to shake the hand at the end of it. "And if you've heard that name before, then you understand it wasn't all that odd. Most stories say I piss ale and kill little boys who look at me wrong…" He chuckled as he released Elissa's hand. "And that's mostly true, but they always leave out the part where I'm the only one trying to save Orzammar's only Paragon."

"Have you heard of this man?" Elissa said, glancing to the assassin – if there were rumors to be had in the city, then Zevran had heard them.

"I have." Zevran said with a nod. "Something of a legend among the Warrior Caste, though now it's more for drinking prowess than battle skill."

"Ech…" Oghren grumbled, glaring at the elf and waving his words off with the graceless fluttering of a drunken arm. "If you're looking for Branka, I'm the only one who knows what she went looking for, which might be pretty sodding helpful in finding her!"

"Cut to the chase!" Elissa said, holding up her hand to silence any further drunken rambling. "My time is ticking away while you sit here muttering at me. You can come – if your information is good."

"Branka was looking for the Anvil of the Void, the secret to the golems that was lost centuries ago." Oghren whispered, leaning closer to Elissa who pressed her nose closed against the massive blast of alcoholic wind that came from his mouth. She was stunned she didn't get drunk just off breathing it. "Caridin built it in the old Ortan Thaig, as far as anyone knows… so Branka planned to start looking there. It's past Caridin's Cross and no one's seen that thaig for five hundred years."

Elissa looked to Zevran who shook his head imperceptibly, indicating that the dwarf had indeed provided them with information that she could not find on the map that Harrowmont had given her.

"Alright then, I hope you've got all the supplies you need because we haven't time to retrieve them." Elissa replied, continuing her course to the mine entry and nodding at the guardsmen posted there as they passed.

* * *

><p>Even though the once grand halls of the Deep Roads had collapsed into disrepair, it was easy to see how marvelous they must have been before the darkspawn had claimed them. Oghren stayed close to the front with her at first, nattering on about his wife (<em>Branka<em>) and her obsession with the Anvil.

When they came to the first side tunnel, it was surrounded by semi-fresh corpses of darkspawn scouts – and Elissa bid her group to stand by while she and Zevran inspected the bodies to determine what killed them and whether they should be concerned or thankful for the assistance.

While she and the assassin talked and reviewed the map, Oghren fell back against an old signpost, pulling loose his hip flask and drinking heavily from it.

"You know what would do you some good?" Oghren muttered, burping from the hefty swig he'd just taken.

"A good pair of nose plugs?" Alistair replied, waving away the cloud of alcoholic stench that the dwarf expelled with a grimace.

"Go out, find a girl." Oghren said, tottering about as he waved his hand emphatically. "Doesn't matter who, as long as there's no pants involved."

"What makes you think I haven't?" Alistair snorted indignantly, crossing his arms and turning his eyes back to Elissa who was pointing at something on the map and grumbling angrily to the elf who refused to accept she was right.

"I can smell purity a mile away." Oghren sniffed, smiling in pride. "It's a talent."

"What? You're... you're drunk, aren't you?" Alistair laughed, thinking that the dwarf **must** be completely nockered to sense any sort of purity in him anymore. Elissa had done away with the last of that long ago.

"Eh? Was that a question? It didn't sound like a question." Oghren muttered, almost but not quite falling over.

"How in the Maker's name do you manage to be constantly drunk?" Alistair wondered, running his brain over the list of things that Elissa had stockpiled in their packs. "Are we even carrying that much alcohol with us?"

"Jealous, huh?" Oghren laughed, taking another long pull from his flask and anchoring it at his hip before he and Alistair moved to catch up with the others who had now moved into the tunnel.

"A little, yes." Alistair answered sincerely, thinking how much easier things would be if he could just stumble through them with a **reason** – well, other than just being clumsy and awkward, as he sometimes happened to be. "Why can't I be drunk all the time? I never get to be drunk."

* * *

><p>As they pressed on through the winding cave halls, the call of the taint became stronger and stronger – and Alistair drifted instinctively to Elissa's side – the pull of her own blood speaking to him across the constant hum of the horde's hive mind.<p>

With his help, Elissa was becoming quite good at reading the taint – following it enough to make out a trace she did not recognize before the screaming haunts Alistair knew as Shrieks made themselves known to their little party.

Alistair tried to work with her to follow the messages in the blood, to learn the footprints that each specific darkspawn would leave – to learn what distinguished the weak from the strong – but it was a difficult balance to maintain. Their close proximity tended to amplify the pull of their own blood on one another and there were times they both had to force a physical separation to quell their need to sate that desire in a way that was appropriate for neither the time nor the place.

It was after one such encounter that Elissa wandered a little too far ahead of the group and out onto a bridge, not sensing the presence or power of the Alpha Ogre behind her until it had wrapped its hand around her waist and lifted her into the air as though she were nothing more than a china doll.

The way it grabbed her restricted her movement to the point that she was unable to reach any of her weaponry, and so she could do nothing but struggle frantically against the crushing pressure of its tightening fingers.

Everyone rushed into motion at once, but the look on Elissa's face told Alistair that there wasn't much time to break her loose from the monster's clutches – and he began to worry that no one would make it there and do enough damage in time to prevent the ogre from crushing her body within its powerful grip.

At that moment, with a great bellow, Oghren appeared from behind the ogre, having somehow made it to the other side of the bridge ahead of them – and with a swing of his great axe, dropped the creature to its knees.

It released Elissa who crumbled to the side, clutching at her aching ribs and sucking in great gasping breaths before Sten rushed forward and dragged her over to Wynne so that the healer could inspect her injuries.

By the time Alistair reached the ogre, the dwarf had very nearly killed the thing all on his own – and the Templar was forced to acknowledge that even in a drunken stupor, Oghren was definitely a formidable addition to their forces.

"It appears I find myself indebted to you for my life, ser dwarf." Elissa breathed, rising to her feet again and reaching over to shake Oghren's hand with a slight smile.

"Meh… it was nothing." Oghren replied, looking sheepish in the face of positive attention.

"I'm serious Oghren, thank you." Elissa said, leaning closer to him so that he could see she was sincere. "That thing would have crushed me before the others could have intervened. I will find your wife, if it is within my power to do so – you have my word."

"You weren't going to do that already?" Oghren laughed, meeting her eyes with a smile.

"Yes, but now I have a very distinct reason not to fail." Elissa smiled, patting his shoulder. "And a **reason** makes all the difference!"

* * *

><p>Elissa decided that it was best to make camp for the night, establishing the safest perimeter she could in light of the fact that there was no <strong>truly<strong> safe place within the Deep Roads.

Once the camp was set up, people settled into their routines – making food, eating, and cleaning weapons and armor. Elissa curled up with her journal, making notations in it and inspecting the map carefully. The assassin tried to offer his advice, but an impatient glare from Elissa sent him away before he could complete whatever thought he'd been intent on sharing.

Alistair chuckled from where he sat outside the tent he and Elissa would share for the night, whenever she decided to come lie down that was.

"So… with the boss, eh?" came Oghren's drunken rumble, sending Alistair's head spinning over to see him teetering into view.

"Pardon?" Alistair asked, swallowing the bite of stew he'd been chewing at and watching the dwarf take a seat on a rock nearby.

"You and the boss are rolling your oats…" Oghren continued, smiling blearily as he took a chug from his flask.

"I don't know…" Alistair tried, putting his bowl down.

"Polishing the foot-stones…" Oghren added, laughing aloud.

"I-I really have no idea what you're…" Alistair insisted, though the blush creeping into his face said otherwise.

"Tapping the midnight still, if you will." Oghren insisted, waggling his eyebrows.

"What **are** you going on about?" Alistair asked, risking a glance at Elissa and wondering how angry she would be at him for discussing such a thing with their newest companion.

"Forging the moaning statue. Bucking the forbidden horse. Donning the velvet hat." Oghren continued to spew one vulgarity after another.

"Are you just making these up right now?" Alistair laughed, realizing that the dwarf truly meant no harm and that they were, in fact, very funny.

"Nope. Been saving 'em." Oghren chuckled, taking another pull. "So, uh, what do you do with her legs?"

"Whose legs?" Alistair asked, not following.

"**Her** legs." Oghren replied, with a tilt of his head toward Elissa. "That's the problem with dwarven legs. Too short, useless as an accessory."

"I don't **do** anything with them. I'm not sure what you're asking…" Alistair replied, clearing his throat and suddenly very uncomfortable.

"Ah, say no more. Just get 'em outta the way and go about your business." Oghren said, rising unsteadily to his feet and moving away as Elissa approached. "Good on you, son."

"Uhm. Thanks?" Alistair replied, furrowing his brow as Elissa moved past him and into their tent – leaving him to clamber in behind her.

"What was that about?" Elissa asked, releasing her hair from its loose bindings and settling down onto the bedroll before going about removing her leggings.

"I'm not sure I could explain it if I tried…" Alistair answered honestly, shaking his head and settling beside her. "He's kind of confusing with his use of metaphor."

"I wonder if that's the alcohol, or just Oghren…" Elissa laughed, the motion of her hands drawing Alistair's eyes to the skin of her arms where the streaks of recently healed skin caught the light from the fire outside.

"What are these?" he asked, reaching over and stilling her arm in his own – running his thumbs over the pink puckered skin of the new scars. "Elissa… these cuts are… have you been intentionally cutting yourself?"

"It's not what you think…" she insisted, shaking her head at his incredulous glance.

"So you **haven't** been intentionally cutting yourself?" Alistair said, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Well, yes… but I have a reason for it…" Elissa tried to explain, watching Alistair get even more flustered at her admission.

"You have a **reason** for intentionally cutting into your own flesh?" he hissed, eyes narrowing on her. "Thankfully you're not a mage, or I'd suspect…"

"What? Blood magic?" she laughed, rolling her eyes at him. "Why must you always think the worst of people?"

"Because the worst is usually the truth." Alistair answered, tugging her closer. "And **you** are dodging the question."

"Fine… release me and I'll show you." Elissa requested, tugging at her arms when he didn't let her go as she asked him to. "Alistair, I can explain this, but you are going to have to let me go."

He reluctantly released her arms, watching hesitantly as she leaned over and slid a dagger loose from its sheath at their bedside and moved to make another cut.

"Can't you just **tell** me?" he said, reaching over to still her hands before she could make the incision she seemed intent on.

"I could, but it wouldn't really illustrate my point," she replied, waiting patiently for him to release her again before she made a tiny slice into her arm – tilting it so that the blood dripped onto the stone floor of the ground beside their bedroll. The blood hissed as it made contact with the earth.

"Maker!" Alistair gasped, reaching over to inspect it closer.

"No! Don't touch it!" Elissa yelped, swatting his hand away before it could make contact with the drops. "It's poison!"

"Y-your blood is **poison**?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"It can be, if I choose to make it thus," she responded, moving her arm over to a new spot and pressing several fresh drops out so that Alistair could see those were perfectly normal.

"You turn it off and on, like a switch?" Alistair asked, catching on to what she was telling him. This was simply another development in the ever-changing effects Avernus' concoction was having on the taint in her blood.

"Sort of… it's difficult to explain. I have to focus on doing it which can take time… I'm still learning how to use it, really." Elissa answered, putting the dagger back in its sheath and wrapping bandages around her wounded arm. "It can make it difficult for Wynne to treat me at times."

"You haven't told her?" he inquired, wondering how many people knew the extent of the changes that potion was making to her body.

"No, only Zevran knows – and now you." she replied, grimacing at his response to the assassin having been told before he was. "I was trying to understand the effects of it, and he understands poisons far better than I do. I needed to know if there was an anti-toxin just in case I accidentally exposed one of you."

"And is there?" Alistair asked, suddenly feeling a little too close to the blood that had now eaten into the ground at his side.

"At the moment, no… but Zevran is working on one – and he's confident he will be able to manufacture something." Elissa responded, smiling at Alistair when he rolled his eyes. "He's good at what he does, Alistair. He will figure it out."

"Fine…" he sighed, sprinkling some dirt over the spot where she had dripped the toxic blood so that they wouldn't accidentally touch it in their sleep. "I still don't understand how it doesn't poison **you**."

"It did poison some of the other Wardens who Avernus exposed to his concoction. They eventually died from the effects of the toxins building in their own blood," she said, watching the worried look come back into Alistair's eyes. "I seem to have developed a natural immunity to it, and learning to control it can't have hurt my chances of survival either."

"Did **any** of the other Wardens that developed this ability manage to survive?" Alistair asked, holding her eyes steadily.

"No, but that doesn't mean that I won't." Elissa insisted, tilting her chin up defiantly. "If it was going to kill me, I suspect that it would have already. As it is, it simply makes me tired to use it – so I don't very often. I think the toxin relies on my strength to reproduce itself in the quantities necessary to be effective."

"So by activating it, you **could** accidentally bleed yourself to death?" he asked, rubbing at his brow in consternation.

"I suppose, if I wasn't being careful..." she sighed, falling back against the bedroll and wishing that for once their relationship could require less arguments. "Can we let it go for the night… please? I just want to lay here with you for awhile until we have to get moving again."

"You just want to lay here…" Alistair chuckled, curling up beside her and tracing his fingers up and down the skin of her bare leg – letting go of the tension that he'd allowed to build with their previous discussion and focusing on an entirely different type of tension that had been humming in his blood all day. "That certainly wasn't the impression I was getting earlier in the tunnels."

"Perhaps you're right…" Elissa laughed, moaning softly when his fingers brushed against the quickly dampening expanse cloth between her thighs. "Perhaps it's more accurate to say I just want to get laid."

* * *

><p>Elissa was in a <strong>very<strong> good mood when they packed up camp the next morning, even though she had gotten very little sleep. She smiled at Alistair, who yawned sleepily into the palm of his hand – blushing slightly before he turned back to whatever conversation he had been having with the bard.

"By the tits of my ancestors, it **is** Ortan Thaig!" Oghren gasped when they made their way into the expansive opening of a new segment of the undercity. "I never thought I'd see this place in the flesh."

"Just stick with me, Oghren… I'll make **all** your dwarven dreams come true." Elissa laughed, checking the notations that Zevran had made on her map one more time before determining the appropriate heading.

"Aye… I bet you could at that…" Oghren replied, sucking his teeth and tossing her a leering wink. "I can see signs of Branka all over this place," he continued, running his fingers over the walls and ignoring the roll of Elissa's eyes to dismiss his flirtation. "She always took chips from the walls at regular intervals when she was in a new tunnel – to check their composition." He sighed, turning back to Elissa who seemed to have finally chosen a direction. "If she was still here now, though, she'd have sentries out already."

"Any idea where she might have gone?" Elissa asked, waving Zevran forward in case she needed his eyes on the map. "This was the last location I had any information on, I'm not sure where to go if we don't find her somewhere inside."

"Well don't ask me." Oghren snorted, kicking at one of the spider corpses that lined the entrance to their current tunnel and watching Elissa grimace in disgust – she **hated** spiders. "As far as I knew, this was always her goal. She figured if she didn't find the Anvil here, she'd at least find some clue to its location."

"And you have no clue where the Anvil might be?" Elissa asked, sighing heavily when she realized they were likely to be wandering aimlessly about in search of something that had long since ceased to exist.

"No, no one does." Oghren replied with a shrug. "But trust me, if we find it – we find Branka."

"What if she's dead?" Elissa asked, not considering her words before they just popped out and grimacing when she realized what she had said.

"Well, aren't you a sodding bright spot today?" Oghren groused, glaring at her irritably. "I was hoping that the afterglow you'd developed from that pounding the pike-twirler gave you last night would last a bit longer into the day." Elissa blushed furiously in the face of Oghren's comment, and Zevran laughed aloud beside her before she elbowed him into silence. "If everyone was dead, there'd be evidence of a big battle then – wouldn't there? Three hundred dwarves don't just fade away…"

As they pressed forward, they encountered wave after wave of ghostly dwarves – their incorporeal form making them no less formidable warriors. Still, they managed to press through them with little problem – until, that is, they found themselves facing several active golems.

"Electricity spells!" Elissa yelled over the clatter of steel against stone. "They don't care for being shocked – it must disrupt their systems!"

Morrigan and Wynne tossed what they had to offer from their arsenals onto the lumbering stone men, freezing them in place long enough for Elissa and Zevran to clamber up their bodies and strike a disabling blow. Zevran watched Elissa, noting exactly where she shoved her blades to break the circuit that kept the golems functioning and repeated the motion on his own, the two rogues dropping back to the ground lightly – pleased with their success.

"How is it that a human knows so much about golems?" Oghren wondered aloud, eyes narrowing in his inspection of the young Warden.

"I **was** one for awhile… well… sort of." Elissa replied, allowing herself to laugh a bit before her memory drifted to Niall and the thoughts of her time in the Fade became distinctly more painful. "It's a long story… and one I don't know that I'm ready to relive at the moment. Suffice it to say, I learned enough to know how the things work – and what to do to make them **stop** working."

The dwarf watched her walk away, realizing there was a lot more to this woman than he had ever imagined there would be.

* * *

><p>When they entered a large open area, Elissa noticed movement that was not that of darkspawn or spiders or golems. The form was far too solid to be one of the ghost dwarves. She moved forward, trying to get close enough to call out – but the man's face came up suddenly – his eyes finding purchase on her face, and he took off at a sprint toward a cave at the rear of the chamber as fast as his little legs could carry him.<p>

Elissa did not think, ignoring the cautious yelling of Alistair who hated it when she took off ahead of him knowing that he had no hope of making up the ground she opened with her speed. The dwarf paused at the mouth of the cave, turning to look at Elissa who skidded to a stop far enough away to give herself time to react should he try and launch an attack against her.

"There's nothing for you here!" the dwarf said, lurching about awkwardly – giving Elissa the impression he might be drunk like Oghren most often was. "It's mine! I've claimed it!"

"Claimed it?" Elissa questioned, sidling closer as subtly as she could manage. "Are you a part of the clan that used to live here?"

"The clan? No… but it's still mine!" the confused dwarf insisted, shaking his head emphatically. "Ruck's been here for years now, and no shiny surfacer will take him away!"

"Bah! He's a bloody scavenger!" Oghren said, huffing as he came to a stop beside her. "Good as sodding gone."

"Begone, you!" Ruck said, waving his hands at Oghren in irritation. "You'll bring the dark ones back, you will! They'll crunch your bones!"

"Word has it you can only survive down here by eating the darkspawn dead…" Oghren noted, watching Elissa cringe with disgust at the very thought of such a thing.

"Darkspawn blood is poison…" Elissa insisted, sharing a half look with the dwarf beside her and trying not to reveal too much about the Warden's secrets. "Many have died in its consumption."

"It burns when it goes down! It burns!" Ruck replied, nodding at her – and Oghren narrowed his eyes, watching some sort of understanding pass between the addled dwarf and the young Warden. "But it's my claim, not yours! **CRUNCH YOUR BONES**!"

The last of his words were yelled, before he turned and started running once again down the tunnel behind him.

"Wait!" Elissa cried out, taking off again and hearing Alistair begin swearing behind her shoulder as the others trailed along in her wake.

"Go away! This is mine!" Ruck insisted as Elissa came to a stop inside the cave where the tunnel ended – passing her eyes around the large chamber that had clearly once been camp to someone.

"Is this Branka's camp?" Elissa asked, hearing Oghren's grumbled _Aye_ from behind her – setting her into motion inspecting the items around her for information.

"No, it's mine! I'm the one who found it!" Ruck insisted, rushing over to stop her from touching any of the belongings he'd gathered in the space. "I drove out the crawlers! Now it's **mine**!"

"I'm not here to steal anything, I promise." Elissa insisted, raising her hands in submission and settling herself softly to her knees so that she appeared smaller and less threatening to him.

"Pretty lady… pretty eyes, pretty hair…" Ruck muttered, rocking back and forth on his feet as he smiled at her. "Smells like the stream of burning water… green as the deepest rock… pretty lady won't take anything from Ruck?"

"If it's valuable, I might trade you for it… but I promise I won't take anything without your permission." Elissa assured him, hoping that was enough to reassure him. "Is that alright?"

"Ruck not mind that maybe," the dwarf replied, nodding at her. "Ruck has many things – some from camp, some from webs. Ruck has dreamed of the pretty lady… yes."

"Dreamed? Of me?" Elissa asked, her eyes darting to Alistair's in surprise – but he shook his head at her, not understanding the question she'd hoped to relay.

"The pretty lady shines in the darkness…" Ruck insisted, nodding frantically. "Her song carries even louder than the Dark Master's now that she is near."

"The taint? You **hear** me through the taint?" Elissa gasped, watching Alistair realize what the dwarf was saying – and sharing Elissa's concern that if this dwarf could track her in his condition then the darkspawn horde and most certainly the Archdemon would know she was here as well.

"Yes. Ruck will answer your questions, pretty lady… do anything you wish." Ruck said, drifting closer to her for a moment but not making physical contact with her in any way. "Just let Ruck listen to the song…"

"Alright… you can listen…" Elissa replied, shifting uncomfortably at his now reverent stare. "but I need to know if you found anything unusual here in this camp… anything that may have seemed important."

"Bits of things, but only bits. The crawlers took almost everything." Ruck explained, starting to pace around the room and dig through piles here and there searching for something. "They takes things of steel, and things of paper. They takes the shinies and the words."

"Paper and words? That sounds like someone was taking notes." Oghren noted, scratching at his chin. "Branka **must** have camped here."

Ruck suddenly shuffled over to her side, pressing a thick leather bound book into her hands and backing away quickly – bowing low and reverently. Elissa flipped it open, scanning a few pages before passing it over to Oghren.

"Do you recognize this?" Elissa asked, knowing that he would even before he answered. The words on the pages made it clear the journal had belonged to Branka.

"Aye, this is Branka's journal." Oghren replied, running his fingers thoughtfully over the dust covered pages – as though touching the words would allow him to reach out to his missing wife. "If it's right, she's headed directly into the Dead Trenches."

"The trenches!" Alistair gasped, moving forward and trying to get a look at the book over the dwarf's shoulder. "That's where the main bulk of the horde will be gathered, not to mention the Archdemon itself. I don't know if it's safe for us to go there… especially if what our tainted friend over there says about your blood is true."

"We don't have a choice, Alistair." Elissa insisted, taking her pack loose and dropping it to the floor with her weapons. "Let's make camp here for now – we'll move out in a few hours."

Alistair started to argue further, but Elissa silenced him with a look that said they would discuss it later.

"I notice there are no darkspawn nearby…" Elissa began, hoping if she posed the questions correctly and in a non-threatening manner she could pull enough information from Ruck's tainted mind to give them a correct heading to find entry to the Dead Trenches. "Do you know where the dark ones went?"

"I thinks they went south, pretty lady… far, **far** south." Ruck explained, crouching as near to her as he could without actually touching her. "That is where the Dark Master calls to them with his beautiful voice… so much joy when he awoke."

"He's talking about the Archdemon, huh?" Oghren asked, watching Elissa acknowledge him with a subtle nod of her head.

"Where is the Dark Master now?" Elissa pressed, watching Alistair shake his head at her emphatically and choosing to ignore his warning. "Do you know?"

"He stopped calling." Ruck said sadly, hanging his head. "Ruck wishes he had gone to see him. You know, do you not? You hear too… the songs of the Dark Master? Ruck sees, yes. He sees the darkness inside you."

"Yes, I hear it." Elissa acknowledged. "And you're right, I'm tainted as well… the darkness you see is in my blood."

"Not only the blood, no…" Ruck insisted, shaking his head. "It is moving, growing… Ruck is sad… the pretty lady is too good for the darkness."

"Thank you, Ruck, it is sweet of you to say." Elissa smiled, patting his shoulder softly as she moved over to where Alistair had set their tent. "Unfortunately, I'm not nearly as good as you think…"


	34. Chapter 34: The Source of Corruption

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N: WARNING!**__ There is some dark subject matter in this chapter. For anyone who has played the game - you'll remember the bit with the Broodmother in the Deep Roads and know what I am referring to. I delve a bit deeper into that than the game does so there might be some material people that people are uncomfortable with. As usual, I am neither too graphic or vulgar - but I felt it was necessary to warn people just in case :) _

_Muse music: __Not Alone by Red - specifically as it related to Alistair and Elissa toward the end of this chapter._

_Thanks as usual to my readers, followers and reviewers - and to my faithful Lady Beta, **artemiskat**. ! I love you guys :) _

_Minor edits 10-12-11.  
><em>

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Thirty-Four: The Source of Corruption<strong>_

Neither Alistair nor Elissa managed to get very much sleep in the handful of hours she allowed them to delay in Ruck's cave before setting the company in motion once again. The young lovers fought themselves to sleep, and woke engaged in the same battle of wills. Neither was willing to give ground on their opinion regarding Elissa's decision to move them into the Deep Trenches regardless of the threat that the Archdemon might pose with the altered version of the taint that circulated through her veins.

As a result, both Wardens were especially testy – and the majority of their companions did what they could to avoid drawing the attention of either one of them. Elissa ran at the head of the pack as usual, scouting slightly ahead of the main group with Zevran at her side. Alistair brought up the rear with Sten, taking comfort for once in the ever-silent qunari. In his current mood he had no desire to speak with anyone about anything, and Sten was more than happy to leave him alone.

Every now and then he would reach out through the taint and try to sense Elissa, to gain serenity from the pull of her blood. It seemed the further into the Deep Roads they delved – the louder the chatter of the hive mind became, and the harder it was to disconnect from it – to push away that itch that crawled just beneath his skin. Down here, the nausea he used to feel when he first undertook his Joining had returned – and he had to fight hard to keep from reproducing his breakfast on several occasions. He watched as Elissa fought and lost a similar battle of her own – running over to the edge of the tunnel and loosing the contents of her stomach against the wall as they came out onto the edge of the great crevice the dwarves had named the Dead Trenches.

Alistair moved past her, inching forward to the narrow lip that hung over the gorge and glancing down into the abyss. Miles beneath him, hundreds and thousands of darkspawn lumbered about, clambering on the walls and over each other like cockroaches on a kitchen floor. He sensed Elissa move into the space beside him – but he did not turn to look at her. There was no need to speak. He knew how she was feeling, what she was sensing. He knew the moment she detected the presence of the Archdemon for he felt it himself – as he felt the sensation when the Archdemon sensed **her** for the first time.

The rush of air from its wings blew back the sweaty curls of her hair as it surged up from below, coming to rest on the shattered remains of a great bridge a few hundred yards up ahead of them. It scanned the walls in their direction, the milky white of its huge sightless eyes seeking them out… tracking the pulsing heartbeats of the two Wardens – one the slightest bit more enticing than the other.

Alistair reached for her arm then, attempting to move them back – wanting to increase the distance between them and the horrible twisted creature seeking to find them, to **end** them.

"Let it sense me if it wants." Elissa said, her voice cold and hard as she moved closer to the edge – further within the range of its senses. "I am not afraid – but **it** is… can't you feel it?"

"No." was all Alistair could manage, watching the creature spout off a mouthful of purple flame – hissing and screeching as it disappeared into the recesses of the darkness ahead of them.

In that moment all he wanted was to drag Elissa away from there, kicking and screaming if necessary. He wanted to forget about the monstrosities whose only purpose in life was to end theirs, to end everything. He wanted to forsake duty, and honor, and the things he had sworn to his brothers in blood that he would defend to the death months ago. Had he believed that even a part of her would have agreed with his decision and run with him, he would gladly have turned them all around and right that second.

But, as Elissa stepped away from the edge of the trench and moved herself forward toward the bridge that would grant them passage across it, all he saw etched into her perfect features was iron resolve - and he knew that any ideas he had of deviating from their task now would fall on deaf ears, a beautiful dream never to be realized.

* * *

><p>When they reached the mouth of the bridge, they were greeted by a small company of dwarves finishing off the last twitching remnants of a darkspawn scouting party. Elissa could see that there was a standoff between them and the enemy forces on the other side – neither able to make progress across and so forced to hold their positions at either end.<p>

"Atrast vala, Grey Wardens," the leader said, wiping sweat away from his heavily tattooed brow. "I can't say I've ever actually seen one of your kind here in the Deep Roads."

"You know we are Wardens?" Alistair asked, sharing a quick look of concern with Elissa before turning his attention back to the dwarf.

"I recognize a fighter of darkspawn… it **marks** you when you abandon your life so that you can face the darkness without fear. It is a sacrifice I understand that Wardens are familiar with…" he replied with a nod, inspecting Elissa cautiously as though he was unsure what she might do as she stood motionless and silent at Alistair's side - taking in every detail with her glinting emerald eyes. "I am Kardol, and we are Legion of the Dead. What do you want here, Wardens?"

"I am Alistair, and this is Elissa," he explained, watching the two shake hands and size each other up before he continued - wondering what was going on in her head with this new persona she seemed to be trying out on the frosty legionnaire. "We came to Orzammar seeking aid against the Blight, but find ourselves down here now seeking one of your Paragons."

"It's an odd tactic to recruit from the front line…" Kardol snorted, moving his eyes from Alistair – to Elissa – then back again. "The darkspawn make their camps in our tunnels in between your… **Blights**… give me a dwarven reason to look topside and I might consider it."

"If the Blight takes the top, the Blight takes us all." Elissa said suddenly, her voice low and emotionless but drawing both Alistair and Kardol's eyes to her with a snap exactly as she had intended. "From what I've seen, the darkspawn reclaim more and more of your city beneath the mountains every year. It is only a matter of time before they take it all."

"Is that so?" Kardol said, stepping toward her with an angry glint to his eye.

"You can't even take that bridge back." Elissa snorted, tilting her head in its direction haughtily. "Yet I'm expected to believe this **Legion** of yours can keep the darkspawn from rushing out of these tunnels and up into your city?"

"I suppose you think you and your... misfits... could do better," Kardol laughed, running a critical eye across the motley crew the Warden dragged along behind her, listening to his own men rumble with laughter at the very idea that these surfacers could do better than them.

"I am **certain**." Elissa replied, pulling loose her blades and moving to the mouth of the bridge – bouncing lightly on her heels as she watched the comings and goings of the darkspawn ahead of her, trying to discern a pattern in their seemingly random movements. "Just make sure your lot is ready to move out once we've finished clearing a path for you."

"I hope this is part of your plan and not just you being a bitch for no reason," Alistair whispered, moving into the spot at her shoulder that he usually occupied and glancing uncomfortably over his shoulder at the angry group of dwarves standing behind them.

"As long as you've known me, have I **ever** been a bitch for **no** reason at all?" Elissa asked him – taking his silence as an answer. "Then why would I start now?" she sighed and directed him toward the bridge, "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"There's a rhythm to their movements, if that's what you're talking about," Alistair acknowledged, watching the darkspawn mill about. "I don't know what use that is to us though."

"Look at them. Look closely." Elissa said, refocusing him and willing him to see what she saw. "They're in **constant** motion – always pressing forward. It's why the Legion has made no process by cutting down the occasional forward squads." she explained, watching recognition dawn on him. "We're going to have to keep moving if we want to make it across."

Alistair nodded, watching her turn and call out instructions to the rest of their company before setting them into motion to engage the first wave of darkspawn. They pressed forward, just as Elissa had instructed – and after about thirty minutes of slicing through the drone level creatures – they set foot on the opposite side of the bridge.

It was there they found their greatest challenge, a full company of archers and two very large – very angry – ogres. Elissa sent Sten and Oghren off to engage the ogres – hoping they and the mages would be able to keep them busy until Elissa and Alistair could take down the archers. She requested that Zevran add his arrows to Leliana's – hoping that the cover fire they would provide could discourage the archers from getting too brave in their attacks.

By the time Alistair had finished off the last of the archers, Sten and Morrigan had downed their ogre and moved over to help Oghren and Wynne finish theirs off. With the addition of the remaining company, the second ogre proved little problem – and Elissa soon stood surrounded by the corpses of the large battalion of darkspawn, watching Kardol and the Legion cross the bridge in front of them.

"I'll give you credit for backbone, Warden. You certainly dug a line through those spawn." Kardol begrudgingly admitted. "Still got no sense in your head, but at least you've got skill to make up for that."

"I'll take that compliment and take my leave." Elissa replied with a graceful courtesy, turning and moving her group toward the tunnel they would need to take to weave around the long sealed gates of the once massive city of Bownammar.

"Good luck to you, Warden." Kardol called after her, shaking his head. "And watch your back, drunks make poor allies!"

* * *

><p>The further they pressed into the tunnels, the more intent the darkspawn became on tracking them – swarming down in organized waves, pressing in on the company hard and angry – with what, to Alistair, seemed like a particular intent toward advancing on Elissa.<p>

These darkspawn were old, years beyond anything that Alistair had ever sensed before, and eventually they found themselves in what appeared to be an ancient dwarven forge – one that the spawn had overtaken and were now using to fashion twisted weaponry of their own.

At the rear of the chamber stood the Genlock forge master – an ugly ancient creature who proved to be exceptionally difficult to kill. His skin had hardened to a thickness that rivaled drakescale over time, and damaging him at all was more like hacking through the bark of an old tree than cutting into flesh. By the time he lay headless on the ground, Oghren's axe was pretty much useless – and so Elissa retrieved the forge master's own hammer – tossing it over to the dwarf who caught it with thankful and surprised hands.

"Y-you're just going to **give** this to me?" Oghren asked, running his fingers over the polished red-steel of the hammer head.

"You need a weapon, and that one is surprisingly well crafted to have been made by darkspawn." Elissa shrugged, moving back off into the tunnels. "If you'd prefer an axe, I can get you one when we're back in the city."

"What do you want for it?" Oghren asked, running faster than he normally would to catch up with her longer strides.

"Want? Why would I want anything?" Elissa chuckled, grimacing as she noticed that the corruption she had come to associate with the presence of heavy numbers of darkspawn began to show up on the walls in thick gloopy globs.

"Everybody wants **something**." Oghren replied, and Elissa tipped her head to acknowledge that he was probably right.

"How about this then… use that hammer to smash in any darkspawn skulls we might encounter, and you and I shall call it even?" Elissa offered, smiling at him.

"Aye, I like the way you think!" Oghren laughed, setting the hammer to rest against his shoulders. "You know, what Kardol said back there… he's wrong. You do right by me; I'll do right by you. Yeh ain't got nothing to fear from me, Warden."

"I hadn't given it a second thought, honestly." Elissa replied, the tilt of her head letting him know that she really hadn't. "I'd imagine, if you asked people, they'd tell you that an apostate, an assassin and a qunari didn't make very good allies either… and yet, here we all are."

As he looked around him, Oghren realized she was right. This group of people should **not** work together… and yet, they did – and they did so easily and without question. He wondered what it was about Elissa that made people so willing to do as she asked, so eager to sacrifice themselves to her cause – but feeling the weight of the hammer at his back, he realized that he already knew.

* * *

><p>Elissa pushed open the door that blocked the way into what had once been the main portion of the city of Bownammar, strolling through it as casually as she had the one before it - and the one before that. She'd been saying something to the dwarf when she reached up to clutch at the side of her head – stumbling slightly to the side before Zevran caught her.<p>

_First day they come and catch everyone._

Elissa could hear the words as clear as day in her mind, she could see the swarms of darkspawn swooping down upon the fearful trembling group of dwarves that had once sought shelter within these very walls.

"Warden?" Zevran asked, reaching up to help steady her – sharing a concerned look with Alistair who had rushed forward when she faltered.

"I'm fine." Elissa assured them, offering a strained smile as she righted herself. "Did no one else hear that?"

"Hear what?" Alistair asked, taking a step closer to her in concern.

"Nothing, never mind…" Elissa replied, shaking it off and moving them forward into the tunnel beyond the old doors.

_Second day they beat us and eat some for meat. Third day the men are gnawed on again, _the voice said – and Elissa saw in her mind's eye a Hurlock Alpha cracking a whip across the back and shoulders of the dwarves who retreated into the corners of their prison – trying and failing to get out of its range. A couple of the men were dragged away and cut into pieces, their screams echoing through the long empty tunnels – unanswered by any who could save them.

_Fourth day we wait and fear our fate._

Elissa staggered again, falling heavy against the wall of the cave – beating a fist against it as though it could fight away the images flowing through her mind.

"Elissa, what is it?" Alistair asked, helping to hold her up – tilting her chin in his direction so she would be forced to meet his eyes where he could see that hers were cloudy and far away.

"You really don't hear that?" Elissa asked again, and he shook his head in confusion before she pushed away and moved around the corner.

_Fifth day they return and it's another girl's turn._

Elissa staggered again, but kept pressing forward – refusing to be deterred though the images kept pressing into her mind. This time the darkspawn grabbed one of the female dwarves – the men all having been eaten days before.

_Sixth day her screams we hear in our dreams._

Elissa could hear the wailing in her head as she rushed forward into the next length of hall, nothing she did would stop the screams.

_Seventh day she grew as in her mouth they spew._

The images had become visceral now, and Elissa fell to her knees – vomiting everything she had left in her stomach onto the dusty stone floor. In her mind, hands held the woman down while the genlock that perched atop her regurgitated something foul and black into her mouth – holding it and her nose pinched shut until she was forced to swallow it down.

_Eighth day we hated as she is violated._

It was too much, she cried out as the loathsome pictures took over her mind – those disgusting creatures… those monstrous **things** pawing her body, **forcing** themselves into her, and raping her. She cried out and held her head in her hands, crawling away from the feeling of Alistair's touch as he reached out to comfort her – unable to separate that sensation from the disgusting sticky grip of the darkspawn's claws.

_Ninth day she grins and devours her kin… now she does feast, as she's become the beast._

Elissa was up and running now, opening a vast distance between herself and her company as she sought out the source of these abhorrent images – of these abominable words. She barreled back into the ruins of an old city building finding a lone dwarven woman there kneeling among a circle of fleshy corrupted pods. She stopped, sweating and sick – hearing her companions footsteps fall silent just behind her – afraid to move any closer than they had already come.

"What is this?" the woman hissed, moving closer to Elissa and looking her over. "A human… bland and unlikely…"she snorted then knelt back down, going back to whatever it was she had been doing. "First day they come, and catch everyone…"

"What is that chant?" Elissa asked… searching her mind, searching among the images this woman had put there and pulling out the one piece of information she wanted. "Hespith? That's your name, isn't it?"

"It's what I've seen… what I will become." the dwarf replied, recognition flashing in her eyes as she looked on Elissa again – the human knew her name, had read her suffering. "I force it into verse so it is fantasy, unreal…" the woman started pacing, and Elissa could see Alistair inspecting them out of the corner of her eye – his features tight with confusion and concern. "The verse is the only place I can hide because they make me… they make me **eat**… and then…" the dwarf tugged at her hair, moving forward to Elissa who stopped Alistair's advance with the quick motion of her hand when he made an attempt to intercept the dwarf. "All I could do was wish Layrn went first. I wished it upon her so that I would be spared. But then I had to **watch**… I had to **see** the change… How do you endure that? How did Branka endure?"

"What change?" Alistair asked, watching Elissa press her eyes closed – swallowing down another roll of her stomach. "What are they doing?"

"What they are allowed to do… what they think they must… and Branka," the dwarf shook her head, her face sad and distant with sudden memory. "Her lover, and even I could not turn her… forgive her… but no, she cannot be forgiven. Not for what she did. Not for what she has become…"

"What did she do, Hespith?" Oghren asked, as gently as he could, considering the woman had just said she was his wife had been her lover. "Where is Branka?"

"I will not speak of her!" Hespith hissed, eyes narrowing on them all. "Of what she did… of what we have become… I will not turn! I will not become what I have seen! Not Layrn, not Branka!"

The dwarf took off running after that, and Elissa didn't give anyone time to respond before she took off after her. She could still hear the woman's voice in her mind – see the horrific twisted images of what she had endured. When she found herself facing a locked door, it appeared to her companions that she had lost all sense of reality as she slung herself again and again against the cold unyielding stone – trying to force it open.

_We tried to escape, but they found us… they took us all. They turned us. The men, they kill… they are merciful, but the women… the women they want… to touch… to mold… to change until you are filled with them._

"Elissa, wait – just **wait** a moment…" Alistair begged, having to wrap himself bodily around her to stop her motions long enough for Zevran to inspect the lock and see if he could pick it.

"It's jammed, I can't pick it…" the assassin explained, watching Elissa wail and thrash and scream in the Templar's arms – like she'd lost herself to some madness none of them could understand.

Zevran took off running then, setting everyone except for Alistair and Sten, who refused to leave Elissa's side, into motion – searching every corner, every crevice for a key.

"Open it, open it, I have to get in, open it, open it **now**!" Elissa demanded, finally breaking out of Alistair's grip and starting to throw herself against the stone doors once again – the rattle of her weapons and puffs of air from between her lips when she would make contact the only sounds in the tomb silent room.

_They took Layrn, made her __**eat**__ the others… our friends. She tore off her husband's face and drank his blood… and while she ate, she grew. She swelled and turned grey and smelled like them. They remade her in their own image, and then __**she**__ made more of them…_

Zevran returned, a nod of his head indicating to Alistair that he had found the key and that he should restrain Elissa again so that he could open the door. This time it took Sten's added strength to hold her back, and she railed against them anyway – giving Sten a wicked blow to his nose with the back of her head that left him stunned and staggering as she raced down the newly opened tunnel.

Alistair and Zevran tore off after her, leaving the others to catch up while they could – neither of them willing to let Elissa too far out of their sight in her addled state. She bounced back and forth against the walls of the tunnel, grasping her head and screaming when another image would pass through it – coming to a stop in the mouth of a large circular chamber.

"Broodmother…" she hissed, echoing the voice speaking in her mind when she lay her eyes upon the creature in front of her as Alistair and Zevran came skidding to a halt at her sides.

"What **is** that thing?" Alistair gasped, watching the assassin turn away in revulsion – retching against the back wall.

She was indeed a hideous thing to look upon… her great worm like body surrounded by tentacles that flailed about. The putrid white-green flesh of her torso stuck atop it as though unnaturally glued there. Pairs of arms and things that Alistair thought might be breasts set at intervals across the space that led to the great gaping maw in its bald screaming head.

Alistair started to turn to Elissa, to formulate a plan while they waited for the remainder of their company to catch up – but there was no time. She was already dashing into the room, screaming a string of the most profane things he had ever heard uttered as she dodged waves of tentacles and threw herself onto the monstrous thing flailing about near the back wall.

She slashed and cut and stabbed at it – ignoring the scratch of its claws against the bare skin of her face, ignoring the pain when a tentacle would grab her and slam her hard against the floor or a wall. She simply got back to her feet and tore over to it again – starting the process over – repeating it again, and again, and **again** until the horrible blob of a thing stopped moving… and even then Elissa did not stop stabbing.

She'd lost her swords during the fight and was down to the dagger she kept strapped to her thigh – plunging the long curved blade into the white flesh of the worm over and over and over again. She was covered with filth and guts and Maker only knew what else when Alistair finally managed to pull her off of it.

"It's dead, Elissa…" Alistair whispered, smoothing her hair back from her face – sharing worried glances with the rest of their friends who stood in stunned silence around them. "It's gone…"

"That's where they come from." Hespith said, and all eyes turned to her – all eyes but Elissa's – she simply started sobbing – curling into a fetal position on the corrupted ground at Alistair's side. "That's why they hate us… and why they need us… it's why they take us… and why they feed us…" She paced back and forth on the ledge above them, inspecting the corpse with narrowed eyes. "But the true abomination here is not what occurred… but that it was **allowed**… the Stone has punished me for my sins dream-friend. I am dying of something worse than death… betrayal…"

The dwarf disappeared soon after that. Alistair dared not even wager a guess where she had gone – and he didn't really care, though the parting glance the broken dwarf had tossed to Elissa had been one of pity and remorse. He reached forward, trying to pull Elissa up off the floor – but she shoved him away, scrambling out of his reach and looking at him as though he was the Archdemon itself.

"Don't **touch** me!" Elissa hissed, her eyes were full of hate and revulsion and the stark cold look of fear. She trembled and shook and clutched at herself, scrambling further and further away until she could feel the wall at her back – holding her knees to her body as though they could somehow bring her back the security that she had lost in that room.

After several attempts, Alistair finally gave up – moving with the other male members of their company into a side chamber that was free of corruption and setting up their camp for the time being. Elissa would move no further in this condition.

* * *

><p>Alistair had been hurt at first when she refused to let him near her, flinching away from even the idea of his touch with revulsion. He'd only managed to relax when it became apparent that it wasn't just him – but <strong>any<strong> male – that brought about this reaction. She'd managed to give the assassin a black eye when he'd gotten too close for her comfort, and that alone had made Alistair feel much, much better.

The witch and the bard had worked together to bathe her – Leliana pooling their resources to acquire soap, a blanket to dry her with, and a basin large enough to hold the required amount of water, which Morrigan created then warmed with a fire spell. Alistair was amazed with the tenderness that the normally frigid apostate showed when tending to Elissa, almost enough to compliment her… almost, but not quite.

It took nearly three hours for Elissa to rejoin them near the fire, still shaken but able to tolerate the company of the men and form clear enough thoughts to try and offer some sort of explanation for her behavior.

"I know where darkspawn come from…" Elissa said, her eyes haunted as she sat at the fire – meeting the eyes of her companions with some reluctance but pressing forward regardless.

"We all know that, the Chant says…" Leliana began, before Elissa interrupted her.

"Sod the bloody Chant!" Elissa hissed, and the bard fell silent – seeing in the Warden's eyes that this was not the time for a religious debate. "The Chant is** wrong**. The first darkspawn may have come to pass in such a way – but these, these are **born**. That thing we killed was a Broodmother. They give birth to the horde."

"That creature was a breeder for the darkspawn?" Alistair gasped, shaking away the image – watching Oghren take a long drink from his flask before Zevran reached to join him.

"That **creature** was once a dwarf. Her name was, Layrn, I think." Elissa explained, watching the horror etch itself into the faces of her companions – the same horror she had felt from the moment Hespith's voice had first echoed in her mind. "It's why you rarely see female corpses left behind after a darkspawn attack, and, I'd imagine, also why there are so few female Wardens." She pressed forward, watching Alistair swallow hard waiting for what she was going to say next. "They take the women back to a nest and start feeding them flesh and this black viscous fluid, blood - I think - or maybe pre-digested flesh – I can't be certain – either way, they feed this to the women until the taint starts to take hold in them, to **change **their bodies and shape their minds."

"That's horrible!" Leliana gasped, covering her mouth.

"That's not the worst of it." Elissa assured her, lips drawn tight – arms wrapped around her own body – shrinking away from the touch of those who sat beside her as though the very thought of their hands on her skin was more than she could tolerate. "They… t-they **rape** them, repeatedly… over and over and over again… multiple times, multiple partners… whatever it takes for the seed to take hold. Eventually they become those things that we saw, those huge bloated abominations…" She could hear the gasps around her as realization sank in, as the horror of that knowledge made itself known. "I don't know if it's because I'm a woman or because of the potion I drank back at The Peak… but I could hear Hespith's thoughts, I could **see** what she saw… I could **feel **it… what was done to those poor women… what has been done to any woman who was captured for centuries…"

Suddenly her behavior made sense, the frantic way she had beaten at the door – the malicious and unending blows she had used to end the creature when she had found it.

"I'm so, **so** sorry Elissa…" Alistair said, knowing the words were useless in the face of this. "I-I don't know what to say…"

"Then. Say. **Nothing**…" Elissa hissed, the words coming from between jaws clenched tight like the strings of a lute tuned too tightly. "But promise me this – I ask it of you all, now… if there is even a slight chance that they might take me alive, then you have to kill me."

There were hushed mutterings but no words until Morrigan finally spoke up.

"I will swear this to you." the witch said, her golden eyes intense in the half dark of the fire lit cave. "And I will ask the same of you should they manage to drag me away."

"No one else? I would have thought at least the women here would understand… I would not allow such a fate for either of you." Elissa said, tears starting to seep from her eyes again as she looked first to Wynne then Leliana – both of whom nodded their promise to her before turning away again – not able to look into the face of her suffering.

"I will do this for you, kadan." Sten assured her, his violet eyes betraying no emotion within him – though he too found himself unable to hold her stare for long.

"Aye, Warden… you've got my word as well," Oghren said, coughing loudly and drinking the rest of his flask in one long pull.

"And mine." Zevran spoke, but he would not look at her – and disappeared into the shadows soon after.

"What about you?" Elissa said, moving to Alistair who had turned away from her – forcing him to meet her eyes. "Will you not do this for me – knowing that to spare me your blade is to condemn me to a fate far worse than any death you could give to me?"

"Elissa… you cannot ask me to promise such a thing." Alistair begged, his voice cracking, his own tears starting to fall.

"If you loved me, you would do this for me, Alistair!" Elissa demanded, her furious sobs coming harder. "If you loved me you would never allow… do you not love me?"

"You **know** I do… but you cannot ask this of me…" Alistair continued, breaking apart with emotion.

"If you love me, then promise me now!" Elissa insisted, and before anyone even realized what was happening her quick hands had relieved him of his dagger and she had pressed it to her own throat. "Promise me or I will slit my own throat. I will bleed myself dry here and now and spare myself the agony of your indecision."

"Elissa! Please… you aren't thinking!" Alistair pleaded, reaching out for her – trying to calm her down or to relieve her of the blade – watching as the others set into motion to try and take it before she could follow through on her threat.

"Swear it! **Swear it now**!" Elissa hissed, pressing the point into her skin and drawing blood as the tip penetrated the delicate skin.

"I swear it, I **swear** it!" Alistair sobbed, watching as her arms dropped limp and the dagger fell to the ground with a clatter against the stone.

She wandered away in the silent moments that followed, crawling inside the tent she was to share with Alistair – but Alistair couldn't bring himself to follow. He sat out by the campfire until he could barely keep himself upright any longer.

When he finally had no choice but to give his body they rest it desired, he crawled through the flaps of the tent as silently as he could manage – noting the outline of Elissa's prone form in the flickering firelight that filtered in from outside. As he lay down, he tried to ensure that no part of his body made contact with hers – though he wanted nothing more than to fold her in his arms and make this whole nightmare just go away.

He lay there in silence, listening to her rhythmic breathing and feeling his own fall into synch and blend with it. He was almost asleep when she spoke – her voice so quiet he could almost have imagined it.

"Alistair…" Elissa whispered.

"Yes?" Alistair replied, not moving – afraid anything he did was likely to startle her like a deer grazing in an open field.

"Make love to me." Elissa replied, rolling toward him.

"I-I… I didn't think you'd want to… you didn't seem very keen on me even touching you earlier…" Alistair answered, rolling to face her - trying to read her eyes in the dim light.

"Sensing the darkspawn, it's just too much… I keep feeling their claws pawing at me… their putrid breath on my skin…" Elissa sobbed, curling in on herself as though she could will it away. "The only thing that drowns it out is you…"

"If it will help you, I will do it," Alistair said, opening his arms to her so she could crawl forward of her own volition. "I'll do anything I can to make this better for you."

He moved slowly but surely into the pattern of what had become a pleasurable routine for them the longer they spent together – doing all of the things that usually had Elissa responding in kind – but this time, she did not seem to be taking any joy in his touch.

Her eyes were pressed shut and she was trembling – neither as a result of the waves of pleasure he was lighting within her.

"Elissa, open your eyes…" Alistair said, stilling above her – waiting for her to respond, she only shook her head lightly.

"Just keep going." Elissa insisted, refusing to meet his eyes. "It will pass eventually."

"I'll not keep doing this if it's causing you despair, Elissa." Alistair insisted, bracing himself on one arm and moving the other hand up to cup her cheek. "Please, trust me and open your eyes."

She obliged him then – opening her eyes and parting her lips slightly as he leaned in to kiss her.

"Good, now look at me – **just** me… there is nothing else but this, but **us**…" Alistair insisted, slowing his movements – holding her eyes with an intensity she had never seen before – kissing her slowly. "I will never let them take you, never let them hurt you…" he promised, and she could see that he meant every word of it - she could **feel** it in the heat of his soft touch. "I will do anything to keep you safe and happy, Elissa… I love you… so much more than I ever thought possible… I am yours, mind and body – heart and soul…"

Elissa could not speak to form words. She no longer sensed the darkspawn – no longer felt the weight of the images and feelings that the dwarf had shared with her. All she could feel was Alistair – the slow heat of his body, the weight of his love for her. This was not the clumsy fumblings of virgins – nor was it the blazing passion of new lovers exploring their boundaries.

Alistair had turned this into something infinitely more intimate – and in these moments as he gazed into the emerald depths of Elissa's eyes; he saw something he had never thought to see. No longer was he competing with the untouchable memory of Nathaniel Howe for a place in her heart. In these moments, there was only him - and him alone. He had won.


	35. Chapter 35: Using an Anvil to Forge a Ki

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale._

_**A/N: **__Sorry for the delay! This chapter was tough going. SO much happens in Orzammar and not all of it is terribly interesting so I had to trudge through everything and make an executive decision on what to include and what to just not mention. Hope you are pleased with the results!_

_Thanks to my readers, reviewers and followers - and to my wonderful Lady Beta, **artemiskat**!_

_Minor edits: 10-13-11.  
><em>

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Thirty-Five: Using an Anvil to Forge a King<strong>_

When Elissa woke, she was pleasantly surprised to discover that the horrific memories that Hespith shared with her had faded into nothing more than a shadow that lingered at the edges of her mind.

Alistair, wonderful true-hearted Alistair, had dispersed them like the sun chasing away the fog in a new dawn, and rescued her from the tortured prison of her own broken mind yet again. She stood watching him gather up the last of his things - his broad shoulders flexing as he shoved his bedclothes into his pack while the ghost of a smile tugged at the edge of his mouth, and she realized just how much she loved him.

"Is there something on my face?" Alistair asked, smirking at her as he moved into the space at her shoulder and started to follow along when she moved them off in the direction Oghren had decided was most likely to take them to Branka's last known location.

"No, no… I'm sorry it's just…" Elissa stuttered, blushing and fiddling with her fingers before looking back up at him. "We're down here, miles beneath the earth, mucking about in all sorts of dirt and filth and dealing with monstrosities that I could never have even imagined a few months ago. I should be horrified or at least deadly focused on what we have to do... but my mind keeps going back to how utterly amazing you are, and how lucky I am to be with you."

"Amazing? Me?" Alistair stuttered, blushing himself at the hefty complement he'd just been paid. "I don't know what you're talking about. You're the amazing one, I'm just the sidekick - bumbling about and trying not to get in the way."

"You're no sidekick, Alistair – least of all to me." Elissa said, reaching over to take his hand. "You may have put me in charge, **against** my will mind you, but I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you by my side. I've nearly given up and been lost to my own demons twice now, and both times you brought me back when no one else could. We are stronger together than we could ever have been apart, and I guess I'm only just now realizing how true that really is."

"I love you, Elissa." Alistair said, stopping suddenly and pulling her tight against him – brushing his lips lightly against hers as he spoke – the ghost of his breath against her mouth warming her to her very core. "And you're right, I don't think either of us would have made it through this alone – I certainly couldn't have done any of this without you – and I don't plan to do anything without you ever again. I'm yours, forever, if you'll have me."

"Oh, I'll **have** you alright…" Elissa laughed, kissing him fiercely and then moving away at the sounds of their approaching companions. "But for now, we'd best keep moving. I can't say I'll be sorry to see the last of the Deep Roads for awhile."

Though Alistair nodded his agreement, a part of him was almost thankful for their time here in the deepest depths of the earth, because, if nothing else, it had banished the face of Nathaniel Howe from Elissa's mind and replaced it with his own.

* * *

><p>"If Branka is anywhere, this <strong>has<strong> to be it." Oghren muttered, as they pressed forward around the corner of the most recent tunnel and out into a large cavernous space. "But tread carefully, Warden. If she is here, she will not be unprepared."

"Understood." Elissa replied with a nod, setting both Zevran and Leliana on watch for traps as they could sometimes catch sight of things that she had missed.

"Wait, what was that?" Oghren whispered, tugging at Elissa's arm and watching as she and the rest of the group started to look around and follow the sounds of pebbles falling to the small woman perched atop a large metal wall just ahead of them. "Well, shave my back and call me an elf! Branka? By the stone, I hardly recognized you!"

"Oghren. Figures you'd eventually find your way here," the woman snorted, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. "Hopefully you can find your way back more easily…" For a moment it was as though she had not noticed the others, but suddenly she turned her bright eyes to Elissa and Alistair. "And how shall I address you? Hired swords of the latest lordling to come looking for me? Or maybe you're just the only ones who didn't mind Oghren's ale-breath."

"Be respectful, woman!" Oghren warned, casting a flinching glance at Elissa to try to gauge her temper before turning back to his wife. "You're speaking to Grey Wardens."

"Ah, so **important** errand boys then!" Branka laughed, beginning to pace on the wall. "I suppose something serious has happened then. Is Endrin dead? That seems most likely. He **was** on the old and wheezy side."

"How do you know we're not just helping Oghren?" Elissa asked, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes at the strange woman – it was clear to her already that the dwarf had become unbalanced during her years scavenging these tunnels.

"Because **nobody** helps Oghren!" the dwarf laughed, it was a cold, bitter sound and Elissa could see Oghren cringe slightly out of the corner of her eye. "At best, Oghren's need to find me happened to coincide with the needs of someone more important."

"You are **impossible**!" Oghren yelled, stomping forward and huffing in frustration. "These Wardens have come all the way from the surface to ask your help in picking Endrin's successor!"

"I don't care if the Assembly puts a drunken monkey on the throne." Branka laughed, holding her stomach as though the joke was fantastically funny. "Our protector, our great invention, the thing that once made our armies the envy of the world is lost to the very darkspawn it should be fighting! The Anvil of the Void. The means by which the ancients formed their army of golems and held off the first Archdemon ever to rise! It's **here**! So close I can taste it…"

"If it's so close, then why aren't you holding it in your grubby little palms?" Elissa asked, watching the woman's eyes narrow furiously as she glared in her direction.

"The Anvil lies on the other side of a gauntlet of traps designed by Caridin himself." Branka explained, pacing faster and faster in her fury. "My people and I have given body and soul to unlocking their secrets… because **this** is what's important, **this** has lasting meaning. If I succeed, the dwarven people as a whole will benefit. Kings, politics… bah! All that is transitory. I've given up everything and would sacrifice **anything** to get the Anvil of the Void."

"I'm well aware of what you would sacrifice…" Elissa hissed, inching even closer – voice low and barely containing its own fury. "I've **seen** the results of your efforts with my own eyes. You disgust me."

"Enough!" Branka bellowed, breathing hard in her anger as she faced down Elissa – unflinching in her anger, unmoved by her accusations. "If you wish me to get involved with this imbecilic election, I must first have the Anvil."

_That lunatic smiled, actually __**smiled**__ at me_, Elissa remembered thinking.

"There is only one way out, Warden… and it's forward, through Caridin's maze and out to where the Anvil waits…" Branka noted with great satisfaction. "And so, regardless of how you might feel about me **personally**, I imagine you're going to have to do what I say regardless if you have any hope of getting what you require from me."

"What has this place done to you?" Oghren whispered, eyes gone wide when he realized what Branka had done – and that she was willing to sacrifice every one of them to her madness as well. "I remember marrying a girl you could talk to for one minute and see her brilliance."

"I am your Paragon, that is all that matters." Branka said, crossing her arms – her eyes unmoving from the challenge she had engaged in with Elissa. "So, Warden… it's your move…what is your decision?"

Elissa moved off to the side, holding Branka's eyes until the cave wall broke their line of sight. Around her lay the shredded corpses of dwarves and darkspawn – cut down by Maker only knew what manner of things to leave them in such condition.

"Elissa… this is madness…" Alistair whispered, moving methodically as though he feared triggering any number of things that might be hidden in the walls.

"I agree." Elissa replied, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "But I don't see that we have any choice but to press forward and hope we succeed."

"You cannot truly expect that tiny menace to offer you anything of value?" Morrigan sniffed, crossing her arms at the cave mouth while Elissa surveyed the broken metal walls and corpse-strewn expanse in front of them. "I fully expect she'll kill the lot of us as soon as we hand over that chunk of metal she's so fascinated by."

"Oh, I don't believe for a second that she intends to do anything other than kill us once she has her toy." Elissa assured the witch, pulling her swords loose and reaching out through her blood to find the darkspawn that lurked at the other end of the span ahead of them. "If we didn't need her, I'd have killed her as soon as she opened her mouth and started spewing all that crazy."

"Don't go jumping to conclusions yet, Warden." Oghren said, and Elissa could hear the concern in his voice. "The Branka I know would never go back on her word."

"She's not the Branka you know anymore, Oghren… she's gone mad…" Elissa said sadly, reaching over to clap his shoulder with her gloved hand. "Do you not hear her railing away in there – talking about how you have to make certain **sacrifices** for greatness. She turned her women over to the darkspawn **willingly** so that they would breed more prey for her to feed to these traps!" She watched the dwarf start to falter under her words, knowing that the things his wife was saying were finally reaching his ears unhindered by the blinders that love could place on one's heart. "These were your friends, your kinsmen… do you really want their sacrifice, their lives to mean nothing?"

Elissa didn't wait for an answer as she moved forward – dashing quickly around the obstacles and rushing head first into the wave of darkspawn that came pouring in from the rear of the cave. She let the sounds of battle drown out the continued tale of treachery that spewed forth from Branka's lips. She let the focus that only a warrior can gain keep her mind from going back to her thoughts of Hespith and the Broodmother, and how badly she wanted to kill the woman responsible for it.

When the darkspawn had all fallen and Elissa stood with her company at the back of the cave, she turned to Branka one last time.

"They say your order is known from its wits **and** its brawn." Branka called out to her, planting her hands on her hips in arrogance. "I suppose we shall see if that is true, Warden."

* * *

><p>As Elissa pressed forward through the next long cave, golem bodies started to show up among those of the dwarves and darkspawn. At the end of the passage was the open door to a room that was filled with a heavy green smoke.<p>

"Poison." Zevran noted, his face wrinkling distastefully. "And a particularly nasty one, my dear Warden. We'll not last long in there if we don't find a way to thin it out."

"I can hear a hissing." Elissa noted, moving as close as she dared to the door – coughing a bit when she inhaled a bit of the toxin then moving back again. "It's being pumped in from somewhere."

"If it's being pumped in, there must be a way to shut it off." Alistair wagered, patting Elissa on the back as she choked out the last of the toxic gas.

"Your Templar is right." Zevran nodded, crossing his arms. "I would wager there are valves somewhere that can be closed if we were able to locate the switches."

"How much of that could someone breathe and still survive?" Elissa asked - trying to gauge their options with as educated a mind as she could manage, reaching over to place a reassuring hand on Alistair's arm when he already started to tense up beside her.

"Not much." Zevran replied, tapping at his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps a couple of minutes worth would put you in full paralysis. Once that happens it would only be a matter of seconds before the toxin would shut down your lungs and heart."

"Right… **okay**! Then we need to decide who among us can hold their breath the longest." Elissa sighed, turning around to face the full group and thinking of all the time she'd spent swimming in the lagoon of Highever with a faint ache in her heart. "I can go two and a half minutes or so… maybe closer to three if I focus really hard on it. Can anyone beat or at least rival that?"

"I expect I could last for four." Sten's deep voice rumbled out, startling them all into staring at him - and Elissa watched him shrug his shoulders in response to her scrutiny. "I am large, and our training encourages such things as breathing regulation in order to avoid detection."

"Well, there we have it… Sten and I will try to locate the switches," Elissa said, beginning to strip off her weapons and armor and nodding to Sten so he would do the same.

"I'm not comfortable with you doing this at all, but especially not with **less** armor." Alistair said, providing as much privacy as he could while Elissa stripped down to her leggings and chemise – keeping her boots and a single dagger strapped to her thigh. "What if there are other things in there besides the gas?"

"Then, you'll have to hold your breath and come in after us, I suppose." Elissa chuckled, reaching over to pat his arms when his expression told her that he did **not** find her jokes funny at the moment. "All right, all right… seriously then… we need to be fast, Alistair. Even holding our breaths and adding in the time Zevran says it would take for the poison to paralyze, we've only got what – five, six minutes at most to locate and shut off the valves? Our armor and weapons and all that crap we lug about in our packs will only slow us down and give us **less** time – which will increase the chance we will be paralyzed by the gas. Are you telling me you want me to keep my soft bits protected so that I can suffocate instead?"

"What?** No**! Of course not!" Alistair replied indignantly.

"Okay, then this is the way it has to be done." Elissa assured him, patting him on the arm and moving with Sten to within range of the door. "If we encounter anything in there we will lead it back out, and if we fall… it's up to you all to find a new plan…" She shared a small smile with Alistair before nodding to Sten and beginning to count. "On three… one, two, **three**!"

She heard Sten breathe deeply beside her as she dashed into the room, fighting against the tears that were welling up in her eyes with the burn of the toxic air. She caught a glimpse of what she believed to be valves near the side doors on the right and left of the chamber – but neither she, nor Sten were able to venture closer as two previously inactive golems behind them suddenly sprung to life. She caught his eye and they both rushed back out the door from where they'd come, falling back behind the others and letting them take care of the golem menace.

"Did you see them?" Elissa panted, allowing Zevran to rinse her eyes of the poison with a bit of water and some salve from his pack once the golems had been dealt with.

"I saw what appeared to be levers at the sides of the chamber," Sten acknowledged with a nod. "Reaching them should not be a problem."

"I also saw two more golems in the back of the room." Elissa said, bouncing on her heals and shaking out her arms – preparing to make another run in. "I'm going to go ahead and assume that they will activate when we get in range. That being said, I'm going to press for the valve on the right side – when they activate, can you get their attention and lead them back out to the others?"

"As you wish, kadan." Sten replied, and a few moments later they were back in the room.

As Elissa had assumed, the two golems at the rear of the chamber activated as soon as she reached the switches that would close the valve on the right side of the room. Sten grabbed a chunk of stone off the floor and tossed it at them – beaning one then the other in their tiny heads then flailing about until they turned to chase him. With nothing to hamper her, Elissa got both of her valves closed easily. She turned – looking across the room at the other two. A glance back through the doorway showed that her companions were still taking down the second golem – and so she took off, running hard at the other wall.

The first lever pulled down easily, but the second was caught – rusted or wedged against stone – she couldn't tell. She pulled at it, throwing all of her weight into the motion – but could not get it to budge. Too late she realized that she was running out of breath and that she would be unable to make it across the large span between herself and the door breathing the toxic air.

_Well shit!_ Elissa thought as she dropped down and lost the fight against her lungs, drawing in a long full breath of the poison filled air.

She fell forward after that, the air burning her lungs – her body slowly starting to go numb. It seemed such a silly way to die. All the things she'd faced, all the distance she'd traveled, only to be brought down by a simple cloud of poison gas. She'd have laughed if her lungs weren't failing.

Moments streamed past before she had the vague sensation of someone stepping over her, and then of her body being rolled over and something pressing forward against her mouth as a great breeze blew through the room and tossed the sweaty curls of her hair around in a torrent.

It was then that she realized that it was Alistair that held her, pressing his mouth over hers – pushing his breath into her lungs and forcing out the poison gas, allowing her to breathe again by offering the toxin free air from his own body.

She could feel her limbs starting to come back to life, and had to push away from him when great wracking coughs started to shake through her – expelling the last of the venomous air.

"What happened to following the plan?" Alistair chastised, patting at her back as she pressed her face into the stone floor reveling in the great gasping breaths of clean air.

"I thought I could do it." Elissa panted, offering a half smile and a shrug. "I would have too, if that lever hadn't been stuck."

"I am going to die of a heart attack long before the darkspawn get me" Alistair chuckled, pulling her up from the floor and wrapping his arm around her waist.

* * *

><p>Elissa and Sten dressed quickly, and then pressed forward through the remaining sections of traps between them and the area Branka believed to hold the Anvil. There was a room of blade traps, which were easily disarmed, activating more golems, which they had to dispatch – and then a great open chamber lined with beautiful veins of raw lyrium. The puzzle in this room proved the most difficult – but once they figured it out, even that did not prevent them from reaching their final goal.<p>

The final chamber was huge, opening out into an expansive ledge that hung over a great river of lava. It was filled with scores of inactive golems, and one very different looking golem that stood at the head of the group.

"My name is Caridin." the golem said, its voice metallic and hollow within its great chest. "Once, longer ago than I care to think, I was a Paragon of the dwarves in Orzammar. If you seek the Anvil – and you must to have come this far and risked my traps – then you shall listen to my story, or be doomed to relive my mistakes."

"Caridin? As in **the** Caridin – of Caridin's Cross?" Elissa asked, unable to believe this thing was one in the same.

"That is me." the golem replied, nodding its metal head. "I forged many treasures in my time – but only one is ever remembered… The Anvil of the Void. It allows the user to forge a man of steel or stone, as flexible and as clever as any soldier. As an army, they are invincible… but there is a terrible cost for their construction."

"There is no mention of that in the Memories." Oghren said, watching the golem with a suspicious eye.

"There wouldn't be, for I never spoke of it to anyone." Caridin explained, the fire of his tiny eyes glowing eerily in his metal face. "No smith, even a master smith such as I, has the power to create life… and so, to make my golems live, I had to take their life from elsewhere."

"That sounds disturbingly similar to blood magic." Alistair whispered, looking to Elissa in concern and distaste. "And that's a dangerous path to walk."

"I suppose it is similarly unpleasant." Caridin admitted before continuing his story. "But the darkspawn were pressing in and I felt that I had no choice. At first, I took only volunteers, the bravest of souls willing to trade their lives to defend their homeland…" the golem continued, starting to move its arms about in great creaky gestures, "but King Valtor became greedy… He began to **force** men… the castless and criminals… even his political enemies… all of them were to be given to the Anvil. When I finally spoke out against him, even I was sacrificed to what I had helped to create. It was then that I realized the height of my crimes and the devastating power I had unleashed on the world."

"So what now? You know we've come seeking it – you know that Branka is only minutes behind us… what do you intend to do now that you've been discovered?" Elissa asked, venturing closer to the Paragon but sheathing her weapons to illustrate she did not intend to harm him unless forced to do so.

"I wish to destroy the Anvil, but I cannot do it myself – for no golem can touch it." Caridin explained. "I had hoped, were someone strong enough and intelligent enough to brave my traps and find me here they would be willing to see reason and help me with my task."

"No! The Anvil is mine!" Branka yelled, barreling into the room and forcing herself in between Elissa and Caridin – insisting she be heard. "No one will take it from me, not even **you** Paragon Caridin."

"You! You're mad!" Caridin hissed, pointing at Branka furiously. "Please, Warden, you must help me to destroy the Anvil! Do not let it enslave more souls than it already has! Do not let this woman sacrifice any more to her insanity!"

"I want to help you Caridin… I have no wish to support Branka or to add any more lives to the list of sacrifices made to bring both of you to this point… but I am afraid I need the word of a Paragon to place a new King on Orzammar's throne." Elissa said, her heart hurting at the thought of going against what was so clearly the right thing to do. "Without that, I cannot get the aid I need to wage a defense against the Blight, and the needs of Ferelden must take precedence even over my own desires."

"If you do this for me, I will do what I can to bring the aid that you need." Caridin vowed, his beady glowing eyes shifting rapidly between her face and Branka's.

"Don't listen! He's been trapped here for a thousand years, stewing in his **own** madness!" Branka cried out, pulling loose her weapons and advancing on Elissa with malice in her eyes. "Help me to claim the Anvil and you will have an army like none have ever seen! Help him, and I add you to the list of sacrifices **I** am willing to make."

"Branka, you mad, bleeding nug-tail!" Oghren yelled, moving to cut her off from progressing any further toward Elissa. "Does this thing mean so much to you that you can't see what you've lost to get it?"

"Look around you, Oghren!" Branka yelled, waving her arms at the crumbling caves around her. "Is this what our empire should look like? A crumbling tunnel filled with darkspawn spume? The Anvil will let us reclaim the glory that is rightfully ours!"

"The Anvil enslaves living souls you nutter!" Alistair cried out, shaking his hands in fury. "It must be destroyed!"

"I'm sorry, Branka." Elissa added, pulling loose her blades again and waiting for her companions to follow. "I can't let you take it. History is meant to be learned from. I won't let you bring the sins of the past to bear once again by releasing this into the world."

"Thank you strangers." Caridin said, his golem body relaxing. "Your compassion shames me."

"No! You will not take it!" Branka yelled, tossing Oghren to the side and advancing on Elissa. "Not while I still live!"

"Branka! Don't throw your life away for this!" Oghren pleaded, knowing that no matter how good his wife was with a sword, the Warden was infinitely better.

"We have to destroy the Anvil, Branka." Elissa insisted, circling the dwarf like a jungle cat. "You were willing to sacrifice those who loved you to get to it, and, seeing that I don't really even **like** you… I'm certainly willing to sacrifice **you** to see it destroyed."

"Just give her the blasted thing!" Oghren yelled, watching the two women pace about – each waiting on the other to make the first move. "She's… she's confused! Maybe when she calms down we can talk to her… reason her out of…"

"That's not a chance I'm willing to take, Oghren." Elissa replied, twirling one of her swords around impatiently. "I'm sorry."

"Bah!" Branka said, pulling something loose from her side. "You are not the only master smith here, Caridin. Golems, obey me! Attack!"

"A control rod!" Caridin gasped, moving to join the fray when he realized what the woman had done. "I will help you, Warden. You cannot do this alone."

The battle with Branka did not take as long as Elissa had imagined. Although she was quite obviously mad, her insanity had done nothing to mitigate her arrogance – and once she had unleashed her army of golems – she had simply assumed that she would win. This had given Elissa and her companions an advantage, one that they exploited to its deadly end.

"Another life sacrificed to the madness of my invention." Caridin said sadly, coming to stand with Elissa over Branka's fallen body. "I wish that no mention of it had ever made it into our history."

"Yeah, you ain't kidding." Oghren grumbled, anchoring his bloody hammer at his back and gazing with broken eyes at the woman he had once loved. "Stupid woman! I always knew the Anvil would kill her."

"At least it ends here… I must thank you, Warden, and your friends, for standing with me." Caridin continued. "The Anvil waits at the apex of that precipice for you to shatter it… but before you complete your task, is there any final boon I might grant you for your aid? One last piece of good into the world before I am freed from this burden…"

"Oghren? You lost more than anyone… is there anything that you want?" Elissa said, knowing she should ask for the Paragon's favor in the coming election but unable to do so when faced with Oghren's tragedy.

"Huh? You're asking me?" Oghren gasped; wide eyed in surprise that anyone would even consider his desires before their own. "Don't suppose you can bring Branka back… make her a golem like you?"

"I would not do such a thing to her even if I could." Caridin said with a shake of his tiny metal head.

"Somehow I didn't think so." Oghren chuckled sadly, rubbing at his brow in deep thought. "I can't imagine I would want anything that could remind me of… **this**…" he continued, waving his arm around to illustrate his point. "Best that it all be done… though, there is still the matter of the election. We still need to offer the support of a Paragon to get the Assembly to support either candidate's claim to the throne."

"Then for the aid you have given me, I shall put hammer to steel one last time." Caridin replied, beginning the long trudge up the hill to his anvil. "I shall give you a crown to bestow upon the King of your choice."

While Caridin worked, Elissa looked around the chamber – her attention drawn to a great stone monument near the tunnel through which they had entered. It was covered with an extensive series of runes, all in the dwarven tongue. From what Elissa could decipher, it appeared to be a list of names.

"Oghren," she called, motioning him to join her. "What is this? Can you tell? My knowledge of dwarven characters is too limited to be able to decipher it completely."

"Hmm… names… a long list of dwarves… err… hold on," he paused, leaning in to look closer. "_We honor those who have made this sacrifice; let their names be remembered_…" His eyes grew wide and he drew back, turning to Elissa. "Well fart me a lullaby! It's a memorial… of all the dwarves that died to make the golems. It has to be!"

"I wish there was some way of getting this back to the Shaperate in Orzammar, these names should not be lost to the Dead Trenches." Elissa mused, rubbing at her chin.

"Ha! I bet they'd brown their trousers!" Oghren laughed, watching Elissa cringe in response. "Or pay good gold for it… probably both!"

The ding of Caridin's hammer still rung out, echoing through the large chamber and so Elissa knew she had time to work with. She gathered a few sheets of paper from each of her companions – knowing everyone would be unwilling to sacrifice a large amount as they each kept journals of some manner. She also requested a bit of charcoal from Zevran, knowing the assassin was an avid artist and most likely to have some he no longer needed as it had been too worn down from the time he spent sketching. With all of her supplies gathered – she and Oghren set about taking a rubbing of the monument – completing it and stowing it into Elissa's pack just as Caridin indicated he had completed his last work.

"There. It is done. Give it to who you will." Caridin said, passing a gleaming golden crown into Elissa's careful hands and watching as she wrapped it in her cloak and gave it to one of her companions for safe keeping until they reached Orzammar.

"Do you have any advice on who should be King?" Elissa asked, knowing the answer even before the words left her mouth but needing to speak them anyway.

"I do not know their names, nor do I wish to – or to know anything of them." Caridin insisted, his mechanical voice tired. "I have lived too far beyond my time. I no longer have a place in this world."

"I understand." Elissa said, smiling softly at him and allowing her eyes to drift over to the Anvil. "I will destroy it, as you have asked, though I will need for you to tell me how."

"Simply strike the anvil directly with the hammer." Caridin explained, passing his massive smith's mallet over into her hands. "With no metal or stone to span between it, the blow will shatter both."

Elissa did as he instructed, covering her face with her arms when both blew apart when she brought them together. Alistair caught her when she stumbled back from the blast, allowing his arm to remain around her waist in support as Caridin moved closer to the ledge, ready for his own destruction.

"With the Anvil gone, it is time for me to rest at last." Caridin sighed, and Elissa imagined that he would have smiled if he still had the face to do so. "You have my eternal thanks, Wardens. Atrast nal tunsha… may you always find your way in the dark."

And just like that he was gone, and they were done – ready to head to the surface to crown a new King and finally leave Orzammar with the promise of their aid.

* * *

><p>A week and a half later they had climbed back from the depths of the earth, delivered a batch of history to the Shaperate, and put a new King on the throne. Harrowmont was grateful for their aid – and in spite of Elissa's distaste for his methods, she felt that he did intend to be a fair King to his people.<p>

Elissa and her companions left the great dwarven city with the promise of their aid, and – surprisingly – the friendship of the Legion of the Dead who had surfaced from their vigil near the Dead Trenches and promised their blades to the Wardens who had risked so much for their people.

Standing in front of the gates to the city and looking once again at the sky, Elissa felt a surge of hope run through her body – replenishing her will and driving her forward. She'd relayed her plans to return to Soldier's Peak a few days before they left. She needed to discuss the latest developments in her condition with Avernus, and to exchange their gear before they headed into the forest in search of the elusive Dalish elves.

"Give me a moment." Oghren grumbled from behind her, bristling as Morrigan tried to insist that he get a move on.

"Is everything alright?" Elissa asked, turning around and wondering what all the fuss was about.

"Of course everything is alright… I just need… just give me a sodding moment!" Oghren bellowed, fiddling anxiously with his gauntlets. "By the Stone, I feel like I'm about to fall off the world at any moment with all that sky up there."

"I'm sorry, Oghren… I'd never thought how strange it must be for you." Elissa admitted, looking up at the very expanse that just before had made her feel so free and rejuvenated and thinking how that same span of blue must appear to someone who had never really seen this much of it.

"Strange? Ha!" Oghren chuckled, smirking at her. "Strange is your wife turning out to prefer the ladies… living in a world without a bleeding ceiling… **that's** something else! Now let's get moving! We're losing whatchacallit… oh yeah, daylight!"

"Alright." Elissa laughed, bounding down the stairs with the dwarf at her side.

"Hey, hey now… slow down a bit" Oghren insisted, watching her shorten her strides so that he could keep pace easier. "I wanted to talk to ya."

"Sure… what's on your mind?" Elissa asked, looking at him curiously.

"Aye… okay… here we go…" he started, taking in a deep breath as though he wasn't quite sure how to proceed. "You and I… we've… you know how sometimes you spend time with… people, and things… hmm…"

"It's okay, Oghren," Elissa chuckled, smirking at him, "I love you too."

"Ha! Well I'll be shaved, skinned, and hung up to dry!" Oghren guffawed, shaking his head at her. "It's too soon though, lady… too soon… and really, I just wanted to ask a favor."

"No, you can't have my bottle of Garbolg's Backcountry Reserve – I'm saving that for after the Archdemon dies." Elissa replied, shifting her pack away from him.

"I didn't even know you **had** that, Warden… though… are you sure you know what you're in for? I've heard that draft can cause seizures in full grown men and you're just a…" Oghren started, realizing quickly that he was headed down a dangerous path and shifting back to his original point. "Anyway… I was thinking, and I do actually know some people here on the surface. Well… person, actually… girl I knew back in Orzammar… before I left… obviously…"

"Are we speaking of a girl you knew… or a girl you… **knew**?" Elissa asked, raising an eyebrow at him and smiling.

"What?" he asked, looking at her for a moment before he caught her meaning. "Oh, you mean are we rutting like you and the Templar?" He chuckled aloud when she blushed in response. "Started after Branka left for the Deep Roads. Name's Felsi – fiery one she was, a lot like you if my hearing serves me right…" He chuckled and Elissa rolled her eyes in response. "Thought maybe I'd track her down, see how she's been doing out here under the sky."

"Oghren, you dog." Elissa laughed, bumping her hip against his shoulder and jarring him to the side for a moment before he recovered. "I don't suppose you know how to find her? I can't imagine our odds of locating a single dwarf without a starting point would be very good… you are quite small you know?"

"Last I heard she was working in the inn at Lake Calenhad, across from the Circle Tower." Oghren answered, smirking at her.

"I need to make a stop in Redcliffe to look into an item for Sten and check in with Eamon anyway. A trip across the lake won't take long and I know the innkeeper," Elissa explained with a grin. "We'll look in on her after we've replenished at The Peak."

"You're a good friend, Warden." Oghren laughed, reaching up with the thought of clapping her on the back before realizing their differences in height would have him clapping her bottom instead… and then inspecting said bottom with an appreciative eye. "I might just think of you if Felsi and I ever… no, actually… that would be weird…"

Surprisingly, Elissa's reaction was just to laugh. She was so happy to be out of the Deep Roads – to be once again under sun and sky and surrounded by her friends – odd though they were – that even Oghren's sexual innuendo could do nothing to dampen her mood.


	36. Chapter 36: Cold Like Stone

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale._

_**A/N:**__ This is a large chapter. I thought of dividing it into two - but after my disappointment with the last chapter, I decided posting the next one as a long chapter I was quite pleased with would make me feel better! :) _

_Hope that you all enjoy it!_

_Thanks to all my readers, followers and reviewers and to my Lady Beta **artemiskat**!_

_Minor edits 10-13-11.  
><em>

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Thirty-Six: Cold Like Stone<strong>_

As they made their way from the Frostback Mountains back to the relative safety of Soldier's Peak – it became increasingly obvious that both the Blight and Loghain's Civil War were now raging across the face of Ferelden at full force. This meant that when they weren't fighting small battalions of Howe and Loghain's men, they were fending off the attacks of roving bands of darkspawn and the blighted animals left in the wake of the horde.

Staying off the roads was no longer guaranteed to keep them safe and undetected, and the company found themselves more and more reliant on the collective rogues' stealth skills in order to detect enemies before they themselves were discovered.

Alistair smiled as Elissa shifted back into view ahead of him, returning to the group with details of what lay just ahead through the trees. He thought back on how horrible she had been at stealth when he met her. They had been forced to rely heavily on Daveth to do their scouting when they had been in the Wilds retrieving the treaties she'd used to sway the mages, Templars and dwarves to their cause. Now, with Zevran's expert tutelage, she moved in and out of the shadows as though she had always been a part of them. If it weren't for their bond of blood, he'd easily have lost track of her from time to time.

"There is a man ahead being held by a group of soldiers from Bann Loren's personal army." Elissa whispered, and Alistair's smile faded when he saw the serious look on her face. He didn't know who Bann Loren was, but that look told him she knew, and it wasn't good they had stumbled across his associates. "He's one of Cailan's honor guard, I recognize the uniform."

"Cailan! But how?" Alistair gasped, starting to move forward.

"I'm not sure, but I'm certain I know the insignia he wears." Elissa replied, placing a hand on his chest to stay his movement. "Be silent and stay down. I don't want Loren's men to know we are here until we've decided what to do about them."

Elissa set the rest of their party in motion with the wave of her hand, silently creeping the group close enough for Alistair to see the man she spoke of.

"That's Elric Maraigne." Alistair whispered, leaning close to Elissa's ear. "He was Cailan's right hand – or so Duncan said. Barked like a mabari to keep the riff-raff away from the King's tent."

"We should decide what's to be done soon, my Warden." Zevran whispered, leaning in to Elissa's other ear. "These men intend to kill your ally for attempting to escape."

"Escape?" Alistair started, but his question hung in the air unanswered as one of Loren's men jammed his dagger deep into Elric's belly – forcing the company into motion if they stood any chance at saving the man.

"Go, go, go!" Elissa yelled, dropping down the face of the low cliff and throwing herself on one of the men.

* * *

><p>Elissa had originally intended to spare a single one of Loren's brigade for questioning, but her company fought too well or perhaps too heavy handed. When the battle ended – all but Elric lay dead on the ground.<p>

"Thank you." Elric groaned as Elissa helped him to a sitting position – beckoning Wynne over to inspect his wound. "I-I didn't expect the Bann's men to notice my escape so quickly. I tried to hide here in the woods, but there wasn't enough time to… ugh… and now I'm a dead man."

He groaned as Wynne prodded the wound, and as Elissa met her eyes the elder mage shook her head subtly indicating there was little she could do. The wound was fatal and it was only a matter of time.

"What do you mean, there wasn't time?" Elissa asked, watching the mage cast a spell that would ease his pain as much as possible. "Time for what?"

"You were there in Ostagar… with the Grey Wardens… Duncan's new recruits – the both of you…" Elric said, moving his eyes back and forth between Alistair and Elissa. "I was to guard the King, he was my friend – you understand?"

"Yes, we recognized your face and your uniform." Alistair answered, watching another hint of recognition flicker across the man's features when Elissa pulled her cowl down and revealed her face - trying to allow herself a clearer look at Elric's wound.

"**You**, you are the youngest of the Couslands, are you not?" Elric asked, watching Elissa nod slowly as she continued to bandage his wound in an attempt to quell the bleeding and give them more time to speak with him. "Cailan spoke of you often and with great fondness."

"Cailan was a good man." Elissa said sadly, unable to meet Alistair's eyes as the memory of the King that had been washed over her once again. She had been happy to forget for a time, at peace with her voluntary ignorance - now all that was gone and she was back there in that awful night surrounded by death and betrayal.

"When things went… **wrong** there… it was either die in some darkspawn's belly or run and try to stay ahead of Loghain's men... if they caught me, I'd be hung for desertion immediately." Elric explained, cringing when Elissa pressed too hard against his wound. "I was eventually captured by the Bann's men, held nearby in the prison while he decided how best to use me to his advantage… Maker… all that time down there in the dark with only my thoughts... how much they all suffered on that dark night in Ostagar… the memories… they haunt me…"

"We don't always get to choose our deaths…" Elissa said, her words dark and her voice thick with emotion. Those who had not been at Ostagar were starting to feel uncomfortable at the effect the mention of the place was having on those who had. "If you had not run, you would have died - it's as simple as that. No one can fault you for the choices you made."

"Stumbling upon you like this… the Maker has given me a chance to set things right. That it is **you** and not someone else sitting here seeing me through my final moments… that proves things happen for a reason." Elric assured her, reaching a blood stained hand over and settling it against her own. "Cailan entrusted me with a key to the royal arms chest. He said, if anything happened to him, it was vital I deliver it to the Grey Wardens."

"Do you still have it?" Alistair asked, drawing his attention - shifting uncomfortably as the intimate connection between his half-brother and his lover was brought to light once again.

"The Maker has a sense of humor, doesn't he?" Elric laughed, stopping quickly when the motion set him coughing up blood and clutching at his wound. "I suppose it's for the best however… had I kept it, it would have been in Bann Loren's hands by now."

"But Cailan entrusted it to **you**!" Wynne gasped, brow wrinkled in frustration - letting go of the thought quickly when Elissa cast a glare in her direction that said she was not to chastise the dying man any further for things none of them could change.

"I was a-afraid…" Elric stuttered, shamed by Wynne's accusations. "I thought I would lose it on the battlefield so I-I stashed it in the camp. Please… it's probably still there... you have to go back and retrieve it."

"Where?" Alistair asked, watching Wynne shake her head in disgust and move away from the main group.

"The key's behind a loose stone in the base of a statue." Elric explained, groaning as he pulled a bloody sheet of parchment from his pocket. "I've drawn a map so you'll know where to search."

"Call me sentimental, but I left behind some darkspawn there that really deserve a good sword through the middle…" Alistair said, offering Elissa a tense smile in response to the haunted look in her eyes.

The idea of returning to the place left her unsettled. The memory of all she had lost on that night and in the days before was still, even these **many** months later, too fresh in her mind.

"The events at Ostagar still haunt my thoughts too, dear girl." Wynne added, moving back to her side and holding Elissa's shoulder softly. "We shall face these ghosts together, all of us."

Elissa nodded at her, leaning into the comfort of Alistair's chest when he wrapped his arms around her.

"It is **vital** that the King's documents do not fall into the wrong hands." Elric said, holding Elissa's eyes steadily. "And Maric's sword is too powerful to be pawed at by those monsters."

"M-Maric's sword?" Alistair said, his voice soft and almost reverent. "I had thought… I a-assumed that Cailan carried it when he died."

"No, Cailan didn't care for his father's blade." Elric replied, shaking his head. "Said it was meant for a different kind of man." He coughed, and fell back – skin going pale and cold and Elissa knew he would not last much longer. "Promise me… p-promise me my Lady… if you find the King's b-body, you'll give it a proper send off… he was our King… he deserves better than to lie rotting amidst darkspawn filth."

"You have my word." Elissa whispered, stroking the man's hair softly like a mother would a child and waiting for him to pass over into the realm of the Fade.

When he had fallen silent, Elissa stood, holding tightly to Alistair's hand as she looked at the man one last time.

"Morrigan, could you…" Elissa asked, unable to finish the question or to look at the body as the witch set it ablaze with a small fire spell.

The rest of the journey to Soldier's Peak was filled with silence and the heavy darkness of memory.

* * *

><p>The fog of sorrow lifted slightly as the group moved through the gates of Soldier's Peak. Elissa dipped down low to wrap her arms around the wriggling slobbery body of her mabari Gladius.<p>

"Aww… there's my good boy!" Elissa said, beaming at him as she scratched his head. "I've missed you! And look… I've brought you bones!"

She scattered the various bits she'd gathered for him on their journey, and nodded her greetings to Levi and Bodahn before heading into the castle – tossing a parting wave and a wink to Sandal who blushed and looked away.

While Elissa spoke with Avernus, the others settled into the Keep – finding their own spaces, enjoying the short reprieve from the chaos that usually controlled their lives. She smiled at Oghren, passing him as she returned from the tower. He had chosen a room near Sten's, the two developing an odd sort of bond regardless of how irritating Sten must have found the drunken dwarf's unending questions.

"Oh, **my**… I could get used to this…" Elissa quipped; leaning back against the door to the room she shared with an appreciative chuckle.

Alistair, clad only in his linen sleep pants, knelt in front of his armor stand - diligently polishing the new set she had given him when they arrived a few hours before.

"What's that?" Alistair asked, raising a confused eyebrow at her.

"You… **shirtless**… and doing, well, most anything really." she laughed, moving over to sit on the bed – tossing her journal up against the pillow and admiring the view of his tan and well muscled body.

"Ha! Yes… I-I didn't want to get armor polish all over my shirt – it's the last clean one," he replied, blushing at her attention and reaching to grab it and pull it over his head.

"I don't think so…" Elissa said, snatching it out of his hands and tucking it under her bottom - entertained that after all their months of lying together he still managed to be embarrassed for her to see him in a state of undress. "I'm enjoying the view far too much to permit that."

"Well then, back to polishing in all my manly glory then..." Alistair laughed; turning back to the armor with a smile.

"You like it, then?" she asked, leaning back on her elbows and noting the way the black metal shone like obsidian from Alistair's diligent efforts.

"It's a fantastic set of armor, strong and really quite light in spite of how bulky it appears," he replied with a smile, brushing it appreciatively with his thumb. "Though, I am concerned the Legion might take offense to **me** being the one who wears it… they did give it to you."

"Yes… you're right... they gave **me** a full suit of plate armor that was two sizes too large to fit my body properly…" Elissa muttered, raising an eyebrow at him. "I'm fairly certain they knew I'd be giving it to you. Kardol is just as smart as he is smart-mouthed."

"You have a point there." Alistair answered, standing up and stretching as he admired his work before sitting back on the bed beside Elissa. "How did things go with Avernus?"

"He seemed impressed that I survived the toxic blood alteration... though unsurprised…" she sighed, pushing herself up off the bed and moving to her vanity to get ready for bed. "It's just one more occurrence in a long line that makes me think he knows something about me that he isn't sharing."

"What do you mean?" he asked, watching her slide off her boots and linen pants then reaching up to pull loose the pins and lock picks that held up her hair.

"I don't know, exactly…" Elissa admitted, sighing as she brushed out the tangles in her hair with her fingers and then sat on her stool to brush it properly. "He's **never** surprised that I survive these changes, though the subjects in the journal he gave me almost always died from them… it's almost as if he **knows** that I'm… **different** somehow… that something within me makes his formula work when it shouldn't have otherwise." She turned to Alistair suddenly, and he could see the concern written on her face. "Sometimes… when the hatred in me takes over, the anger for everything I've suffered… everything Howe has done… all that I can see is vengeance and there is this… t-this **darkness** in me, Alistair… maybe that's what it's bonded to… maybe I've gone… **wrong** somehow…"

"I refuse to believe there is anything **wrong** about you, Elissa." Alistair insisted, reaching over to take her hands in his own. "You've simply lost more than most, and occasionally that makes you lose focus – but you always realize it before it's too late. I have faith that you will continue to come back from the brink - and that I will always be there to give you something to hold on to."

"I hope you're right…" she sighed, placing the brush on her vanity and climbing onto the bed – settling back against the pillows and tucking her legs underneath the blankets.

"I am," he assured her, blowing out all but the bedside candle in their room before settling into the bed at her side. "Now… on to more sensitive subject matter… with this new information we've received about Cailan's things… do you still plan on heading to Redcliffe next?"

"We're going to pass right by there anyway… and as much as the idea of having to suffer the company of your Uncle and his wretched wife for even an hour makes my skin crawl… we **do** owe the man a progress update." Elissa said, cringing at the mention of Eamon and Isolde as though the very thought of them caused her physical pain. "Besides – I promised Sten I'd speak to Dwyn about his sword, and Oghren has some lady friend he'd like to look in on at that inn near the Circle docks. Seeing as I just killed his wife, I figure a booty-call is the **least** I can do to make amends."

"A **booty**-call?" Alistair laughed, tears coming to his eyes.

"Come now, can you honestly see Oghren romancing **anything**?" she answered, rolling her eyes and stifling her own laughter. "I'm not saying anything he didn't say himself... I believe he described their relationship as… now what was his terminology? Oh – I remember – **rutting**, he called it – like what **I** do with my Templar."

"Your Templar… **oh**! He meant **me**?" he said, the laughter starting to taper off. "I wouldn't call what we do rutting exactly…"

"I don't know… sometimes that's what it is…" Elissa replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"Sometimes, maybe, but it's never meaningless like that word implies." Alistair insisted, looking at her sheepishly - a bit ashamed that people could label their relationship as something so trivial. "It's not as though I go about doing this sort of thing with just anyone – there's only ever even been you."

"Relax, darling… you don't have to explain yourself to me… I know it's more than that," she laughed softly, reaching up to lay a hand on his face. "That's just the word that Oghren chose – I don't expect he knows much about real love or romance. You saw him with Branka. Their relationship wasn't exactly a **warm** sort of thing."

"I see your point," he said, sighing and pulling her into his arms as he leaned back against the headboard. "So, Redcliffe then Ostagar?"

"That makes the most sense, and I have something I must attend to in the Wilds… for Morrigan…" Elissa said, feeling his body tense at the mention of the witch's name.

"What? Did Mistress Swampy forget something back at the shack?" Alistair quipped, snorting disdainfully at his own joke.

"I suppose you could look at it that way…" she answered, feeling him shift her in his arms until he could see her face. "Okay... best to start from the beginning then... Back when we were in the Circle tower, I found what I thought was Flemeth's Grimoire."

"What you thought? So… it wasn't…?" he asked, his brow knitting in confusion as he tried to follow her train of thought - trying not to be upset that he was only **now** being told about this.

"It was more like a diary, a diary full of horrible things…" Elissa explained, a shiver passing through her body as she recalled the passage that Morrigan had shared with her. "It spoke of her daughters, of young women – like Morrigan – whom Flemeth took and raised and eventually… took over."

"So… the Witches of the Wilds are all…" Alistair replied, his eyes gone wide in horror.

"Flemeth – **all** Flemeth!" she answered, nodding fearfully.

"What? What **is** she that she is capable of doing such a thing?" he asked, swallowing down his fear though it scratched at his mind regardless.

"I've no idea… but whatever she is, she is very old and **very** powerful." Elissa acknowledged, turning her eyes to his warily. "In light of that... Morrigan has asked me to return to the Wilds to… **kill** her mother."

"What! She's more mad than I thought!" Alistair snorted, before realizing that Elissa actually intended to do what the witch had requested of her. "Wait… you don't actually intend to **go** on this suicide mission simply because Morrigan **asked** you to?"

"I owe her my life, Alistair, several times over… and I truly believe that Flemeth **will** kill her and take her body if we don't intervene," she insisted, watching him shake his head but pressing forward anyway. "Also, Flemeth **knows** things, Alistair – things about me, about my past and my future… things she couldn't and **shouldn't** know… I-I… I need to speak with her again."

"So, you want to go to the middle of the darkspawn infested Wilds to play twenty questions with a legendary sorceress before you attempt to kill her?" he asked, the look on his face saying he was anything but pleased with this revelation.

"That's the basic idea, yes." Elissa nodded, pursing her lips and waiting for his response – prepared for a tirade but not at all expecting what she actually got.

"Sounds perfectly logical to me." Alistair sniffed, rolling her onto her back and leaning in to kiss at her collarbone.

"I know you don't like the idea… and you don't have to come if you want to, but… wait, **wait** a minute!" she said, shoving him away from her suddenly. "You're just agreeing with me? You aren't going to argue?"

"Nope," he answered, shaking his head before dipping back in to press more kisses along her neckline, reaching his fingers underneath her shirt and working at the ties of her breast band.

"What's wrong? Are you ill?" Elissa asked, pushing him back again and pressing a hand to his forehead to check for temperature.

"I feel fine, Elissa." Alistair laughed, smiling at her. "I just know you're going to do it regardless, and – considering we're not likely to have a night in a warm comfortable bed again any time soon… I'd rather spend it doing something **other** than arguing… unless you **want** to fight..."

"Absolutely not!" she laughed, pulling him in for a deep passionate kiss and smiling against his lips as she felt her bindings pop free and his palm slide onto her bared breast. "This is **much** better…"

* * *

><p>Elissa and Alistair parted ways once they reached Redcliffe – she headed down into the village with Sten, Oghren and Zevran while he made his way to the castle with Wynne, Leliana and – oddly enough – Morrigan.<p>

"I'll have another look at the boy," the witch muttered, crossing her arms in frustration when both Alistair and Elissa seemed surprised that she wished to return there. "I am not convinced that blood mage actually managed to free him completely from the demon's grasp, and I have no desire to return here in the future only to be greeted by legions of the undead... **again**."

Elissa shared a confused look with Alistair, but ultimately let her go – not wanting to waste time arguing about it as they had much to accomplish and little time within which to do so.

Elissa's first stop was Dwyn's house, where she hoped at last to lay her hands on Sten's sword and return it to the qunari where it belonged.

"Well, hello there, Legs," the gruff dwarf chuckled, and Elissa glared Oghren into silence when he shared in the mirth a little too openly for her taste. "What brings you back to see old Dwyn?"

"I'm looking for a qunari sword that you might have purchased." Elissa explained, watching a look of recognition pass over his face. "A merchant outside of Orzammar seemed to think I could find it among your collection."

"Sword's hardly of a quality you would look for, Warden – and a two-hander at that." Dwyn snorted, tugging at his chin. "Why would you be interested in finding it?"

"Because it's mine." Sten groused, crossing his arms and glaring at the dwarf who seemed startled to see him there – as though he'd somehow managed to miss him.

"Faryn didn't mention that the giant he took it from was still… **alive**," Dwyn grumbled, narrowing his eyes and holding Sten's stare.

"Name your price." Elissa sighed, digging out her coin purse and hoping he wouldn't come up with some insane cost… which, of course, he did.

"Sixteen sovereigns." Dwyn replied, smiling at her and eying her coin purse eagerly.

"**Sixteen**!" Elissa gasped, palming her purse angrily. "I could just kill you and take it you know!"

"Fair enough." Dwyn replied, holding up his hands in surrender. "It's in my strongbox troublesome woman. Take the blasted thing and leave me in peace!"

Elissa sent Zevran to retrieve it, taking it by the hilt and handing it over to Sten who grasped it reverently before anchoring it at his back next to Father Kolgrim's battle-axe.

"A pleasure doing business with you." Elissa smiled, moving back out of Dwyn's house and making her way to the docks to secure their passage across to speak with Oghren's lady friend.

"Strange… I had almost forgotten what it was to feel… complete." Sten mumbled, meeting Elissa's eyes with a strange mix of respect and compassion she had never seen in him before. "Are you certain you are a Grey Warden? I think you must be an ashkaari to find a single lost blade in a country at war."

"I don't even know what an ashkaari is." Elissa chuckled, taking the hand Sten offered as she stepped into the boat.

"The closest word in your tongue would be seeker, I suppose." Sten explained, stepping in behind her and settling himself as Zevran and Oghren followed behind. "Though a more accurate description is one who has attained enlightenment beyond that those of the mortal plane are allowed."

"Oh, well I don't know about all that... I certainly don't **feel** very enlightened most of the time." Elissa replied, wrinkling her brow at him and looking out across the water. "But I am happy to have returned your sword. I know how much it means to you."

"I would thank you properly for this, if I knew how." Sten said, looking down – awkward and uncomfortable with the heady emotions of this rare moment.

"I know." Elissa smiled, squeezing his shoulder briefly then turning back to the waters ahead of them.

* * *

><p>"There she is!" Oghren hissed, grabbing Elissa's arm and tugging her down awkwardly as they entered the bar. "Look… I'm gonna go talk to her… an' you gotta back me up here, got it?"<p>

"Of course…" Elissa replied, rolling her eyes at Zevran who chuckled beside her.

"Thanks, Warden." Oghren replied, releasing her arm and straitening his armor and beard nervously.

"Go get her." Elissa said, patting him on the back like a child sent off to school.

"Just be ready to pry her off me when she throws herself at me, don't want to make a scene here…" Oghren continued, starting to walk away – then turning back suddenly. "Well… don't pry her off me **too soon**… I mean… a **little** scene's alright."

"If you'd told me I'd be playing wing-man to a drunken dwarf just across the lake from the Circle tower alongside an Antivan assassin and a qunari a year ago – I'd have told you that you were insane." Elissa chuckled, smiling as Zevran leaned languidly against her shoulder.

"And now, my Warden?" the elf drawled, tucking an errant curl behind her ear with his quick fingers.

"Now… I'd say just about anything is possible." Elissa chuckled, watching the disaster that was Oghren's ability to _woo_ a woman unfolding before them.

"Are you sure you're not a baker?" Oghren slurred, smirking at the pretty dwarven lass in front of him. "'Cause you've got a sodding nice set of buns."

"Ugh… thank you for never using anything like that on me, Zev." Elissa grimaced, listening to Sten sigh heavily and settle himself into a corner chair when he realized how long this was bound to take.

"Never, my darling." Zevran snorted, leaning back and eying her backside for a moment. "Although…"

"Well look what the nug dragged in!" Felsi sneered, glancing in passing at the tall woman swatting at the elf dangling off her arm like an accessory, then turning her focus back to Oghren. "I should've known you were in the neighborhood from the stench in the air. What **are** you doing here?"

"Just trying to kick back with a pint," Oghren sighed, stretching his arms up and flexing. "Fighting darkspawn's a lot of sodding work, you know."

"**You're** fighting darkspawn?" Felsi snorted, not even trying to cover her laughter.

"What? Oh!" Elissa said, her attention drawn when Oghren not so subtly cleared his throat and Zevran shoved her forward into the conversation she'd only half been listening to. "Y-yes. This man took on an entire army of golems practically single handed."

"It **was** a bit of a pain… but it was a personal favor for the King of Orzammar, you understand?" Oghren said, puffing out his chest in pride.

"And now you've the whole surface to choose from and you just **happen** to come into **my** tavern?" Felsi replied, raising an eyebrow at him and crossing her arms.

"Err… well…" Oghren muttered, trying to find the right words to say.

"Tell her it's fate…" Elissa hissed, leaning over as subtly as possible with their differences in height and whispering into his ear.

"What? Right!" Oghren replied, clearing his throat. "It's fate, Felsi. What can I say?"

"Fate?" Felsi laughed, shaking her head. "The Ancestors must have a sense of humor then."

"Tell her you've been thinking about her…" Elissa hissed again, standing back up and offering the dwarven woman a smile, which she did **not** return.

"I've been thinking about you, Felsi." Oghren said, moving slightly closer to her.

"What do you want, Oghren?" Felsi sighed, her face weary and lacking patience.

"N-nothin'. Just thought I'd see how you were doin', that's all." Oghren said honestly, his face falling a bit at her lukewarm response to seeing him again. "Well… maybe that and grease up the old bronto, if you know what I mean."

"Il mio dio questo è doloroso per guardare." Zevran muttered in Antivan, covering his face and taking a seat at the table near Sten.

"We shouldn't waste any more time here, Oghren." Elissa said, tapping at his shoulder and hoping to spare him any more humiliation. "It's in poor taste to keep the Queen waiting."

"Ah, well… it's been fun, Felsi… but we've gotta go." Oghren said, nodding to Elissa thankfully.

"Wait! You're leaving?" Felsi said, rushing forward to stop them. "But you just got here! And I haven't even called you a shaft-rat yet…"

"I'm sorry. We have to attend to the Queen, and after that... well, we can't keep the Archdemon waiting." Elissa said, smiling at the woman. "We'd hurt its feelings, and then it might just turn the whole Blight around and go home… nobody wants that."

"Surely you don't need to go off and fight it, **right now**!" Felsi muttered, glaring at Elissa and turning her eyes back to Oghren who she believed to be in charge. "I mean… you could at least have a pint first. You can call me a surly bronto… I can say you smell like nug droppings…"

"I tell you what… I've got some things that need doing." Oghren explained, watching Elissa nod to him encouragingly. "But I'll come back for that pint when they're all settled… you frigid deepstalker."

"Fine, but you better not keep me waiting you worthless copper-plated sword-caste!" Felsi hissed, narrowing her eyes before she turned back to her work.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Oghren chuckled, admiring her behind as she walked away. "I've still got it…"

"That was a success?" Elissa gasped, looking at him in disbelief.

"Aye, couldn't have gone better." Oghren smiled, heading to the door.

"Wow…" Elissa shrugged, shaking her head.

* * *

><p>Elissa had pushed hard to get them out of Redcliffe and back on the road quickly after getting the business with Sten's sword and Oghren's woman taken care of – leaving Morrigan to wander the woods near the Circle Tower until they returned with the promise she would always spend her nights in the relative safety of the Redcliffe Castle walls.<p>

Although Alistair understood Elissa's distrust and disdain toward his Uncle and Isolde – he couldn't help that her ill will toward them still hurt him from time to time.

He tried to speak to her about it when they camped for the night, the two taking the first watch for the evening and allowing the rest of the group to sleep for awhile.

"You know you're as bad as they are when you behave this way." Alistair sighed, rubbing at his face with his hands in exhaustion while Elissa paced in frustration at the edge of the camp fire.

"When I behave **what** way?" Elissa snapped, glaring at him for a moment.

"Like the very thought of being in a room with them brings you physical pain," he replied, looking up and catching her eyes.

"It does." she said, lacing her fingers behind her head and staring up at the sky.

"Elissa…" Alistair said, taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves and press down his own rising irritation. "I know you don't understand why I choose to try to have a relationship with them after everything they did to me in the past, **and** while they try to force a crown on my head even now…"

"You're right, I absolutely **do not**!" Elissa retorted, spinning to face him suddenly. "They treated you like garbage, Alistair – and now – out of the sodding blue they act like it never happened, like they **care** about your well being. Rubbish! They just want you to remember them favorably if they do manage to seat you on that throne!"

"You're probably right," he said sadly, looking down at the ground. "But it doesn't change how I feel… they're my family, Elissa, the only family I have left if you don't count Goldanna… and I certainly don't… not after… well, let's not go there." He ran his fingers through his hair roughly and came to his feet. "I'm not asking you to like them, just to play nice…"

"I **am** playing nice!" she snipped, pacing over to him. "Staying away from them **is** my idea of playing nice!"

"So you're going to avoid them forever?" Alistair asked, inspecting her face closely for a reaction. "What if they **do** manage to put me on the throne? What then? You have to know that Eamon will be an adviser to me at the very least. Are you just going to disappear when that happens because you can't stand to be in the same room with the man?"

"I never said that." Elissa replied, sliding her hands into his when she realized how much this was wearing on him, how afraid he was that he would lose her because he chose to maintain ties to his family.

"I know you didn't… I'm just trying to get you to see how badly this could all go if you can't make an effort to change it," he said, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Eamon is old – set in his ways, and Isolde… well, alright, she's just a bitch so back to my Uncle…" He smiled when she started to chuckle at his insulting mention of the Arlessa. "Elissa, please, can you make more of an effort... for me? Use some of that persuasion on him, soften him up a bit maybe…"

"You want me to use my **persuasion** skills on your Uncle?" she said, her face wrinkling with disgust.

"Well not **those** skills… that would be gross… ugh, really… let's not even go there…" Alistair replied, fighting off the urge to gag. "Just… try to see that you both want the best for me in the end, maybe not for the same reasons…"

"Definitely not…" Elissa interjected, watching him glare sternly at her before she could go any further.

"**Maybe** not for the same reasons…" he repeated, resting his forehead against hers. "But I'm tired of feeling pulled in two different directions whenever we go there… it doesn't feel very good to be fought over like some mabari's plaything."

"I don't treat you like a plaything!" she gasped, pulling back incredulously.

"Not intentionally, but you send me off to him like an errand boy carrying a list of **your** instructions and **your** plans." Alistair said, watching the realization that he was right settle over her. "He doesn't want to hear any of that from me, he's got questions that I can't answer, suggestions that I won't reply to without your input… it puts me in a very awkward position, and I don't like being there."

"Alright." Elissa said, taking in a long-suffering sigh and relaxing against him again. "The next time we go to Redcliffe, I will accompany you to speak with your Uncle."

"Thank you," he said, capturing her lips in a soft kiss.

* * *

><p>Elissa woke sweaty and breathing hard, her eyes trying to find something in the half-light of dawn though her still sleep-laden mind could not quite decide what it was.<p>

"You're awake!" Alistair said, his words breaking through the fog as his blonde head poked through the flaps of their tent – he crouched down in the entrance, shirtless and clad only in his sleep pants. "Did you… did you feel it too?"

"It felt like I was looking at us lying here, sleeping… but through something else's eyes." Elissa said, nodding at him and climbing out of the bedroll – clambering over to pull on her boots then stepping out of the tent behind him.

"It **saw** us, Elissa." Alistair said, shivering and wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he surveyed the woods around them. "The Archdemon... it's looking for us… looking for you…"

"What does that mean?" Elissa asked, rubbing anxiously at the small of his back with her hand and allowing her eyes to scan the shadows near where her dream had allowed her to see herself just moments before.

"I think… wait!" Alistair started, his voice dropping to a whisper as he shoved Elissa behind him – reaching for his sword. "Did you hear that?"

Before she could reply, four drone level Shrieks – and an Alpha – materialized from the shadows around them. Elissa barely had enough time to drop down and roll away from the shredding claws of the Alpha, shoving her fist through the cloth of their tent back and pulling out the single longsword she could reach.

Her screams drew the rest of their sleeping company from their tents, sending them all into action against the group of darkspawn assassins. With so many working against them, the Shrieks stood no chance – and soon they all stood panting and inspecting the stilling corpses of what they had just slain.

"Are you alright?" Alistair said, his face worried as he rushed over to Elissa and inspected the cut on her leg, just above the knee.

"Yeah, it's just a scratch." Elissa shrugged, wrapping her arm around his waist again. "That's what I get for fighting pants-less."

"It's a good look on you, my Warden." Zevran chuckled, coming to stand at her side. "You should try it more often."

"Ha, ha…" Elissa muttered, shoving him playfully before turning her attention back to Alistair. "What was that? What just happened?"

"I guess it's like Duncan always said… we can sense them, and they can sense us." Alistair replied, his fear palpable as he looked into her eyes. "Camping in the open like this isn't going to be easy anymore… we have to be extra cautious."

"Whose watch was it anyway?" Leliana asked, though the answer became clear when the group realized that the only person fully dressed and armed was Oghren.

"What? I only fell asleep for a second…" Oghren began, continuing to try to explain himself as the others muttered complaints and went about packing up the camp.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure about this?" Alistair asked… <strong>again<strong>, ignoring Elissa's annoyed sigh in response as they made their way up the path leading into the village of Honnleath. "Are you absolutely certain this is a good idea?"

"I'm **certain** that a functional golem could come in quite handy to defend our camps against the darkspawn." Elissa said, repeating the point she'd made over and over again since she'd decided to purchase the control rod from the traveling merchant they'd encountered leaving Redcliffe.

"You don't even know that the thing works." Alistair huffed, crossing his arms and kicking at the dirt as they walked like a stubborn child. "And that merchant was shady, even Zevran said so!"

"Be careful, Templar." Zevran chuckled, trailing slightly behind Elissa's other shoulder with a smile. "I might start to think you like me."

"Well, I don't!" Alistair sniffed, rolling his eyes and turning back to Elissa – intending to continue his complaints when they were all brought to a stop by two of the village's inhabitants running screaming past them and out into the woods beyond.

"Well that's not likely to be a good thing…" Zevran muttered, everyone preparing for the fight they knew was coming even before Alistair and Elissa verified the presence of darkspawn within the village walls.

"These corpses are fresh." Elissa noted, watching the blood continue to drip from the bodies draped over nearby lampposts like gruesome lanterns. "The darkspawn must not have been here for long."

As though speaking of them had brought them to life, several Genlocks came barreling down the path in front of them. They cut them down, moving up into the village proper and finding it completely overtaken by at least thirty minions and two powerful Alphas – one Emissary and one Hurlock.

"Search the houses for survivors." Elissa called out, panting from the exertion of clearing out the darkspawn in the village square.

As her companions wandered off to look in the nearby dwellings, Elissa went into the village square to inspect the golem that stood frozen, arms lifted to the sky, covered in what appeared to be bird droppings – just as though it was any other sculpture.

"Dulef gar." Elissa said, raising up the control rod she had purchased the same way she remembered Branka doing back in the Dead Trenches.

"Seems to be broken." Alistair noted, looking it over as he walked up to her side.

"So it would appear." Elissa replied, shoving the rod back into her pack with a shrug. "Did you find any survivors?"

"None, but Zevran found a cellar that appears to be where they tried to make a stand – nothing but bodies in the upper levels, but I can sense darkspawn below." Alistair explained, leading the way to the door – the others having already gone inside. "If anyone lives, they're likely down there."

As they pressed forward, they found nothing but corpses – the broken bodies of the villagers who had tried and failed to fight back against the darkspawn army raging across the country like a forest fire.

"How many more times will we have to do this before it ends…" Elissa muttered sadly from where she knelt, pressing the latest corpse's eyes shut with delicate fingers.

At the end of the last set of stairs, stood a swarm of darkspawn – raining everything they had against a shimmering magical barrier that walled a small group of survivors into the far rear corner of the room.

"That Emissary is trying to break through," Elissa hissed, tearing down the stairs and launching herself at the creature – barreling it to the floor and smashing its staff against the stone.

When the last of them fell before their blades, Elissa moved closer – catching the eye of the man who had created the barrier, which saved the last of his people.

"By the Maker, we're saved!" the man smiled, moving forward to drop the barrier between them – though Elissa could still see the faint glow from another one humming in front of her. "You… weren't sent by the Bann, were you?"

"I wasn't sent by anyone." Elissa said honestly, watching the distrust in his face and not blaming him for it – he was a young man, her age or slightly older – and very handsome despite the worry lines etched into his face. "I never even knew this village existed."

"So… we would have just starved down here… or been left at the mercy of those… **things**?" the man breathed, glancing down at the darkspawn corpses in disgust. "I suppose I should be grateful that someone came at all then…" He reached his hand out, and Elissa watched the other barrier waver before she took it. "Thank you, stranger, my name is Matthias – I am the village healer."

"I am Elissa," she replied, returning his weary smile. "And I am sorry we did not make it in time to save more of you."

"If you weren't sent by anyone, how is it that you even came to **be** here?" Matthias asked, looking her over as she dropped her cowl and tucked a loose curl behind her ear – she was far too pretty and her weapons and armor were too well crafted to make her a mercenary… though those she traveled with were quite the motley crew.

"A merchant told me about this place, actually." Elissa chuckled, watching his face twitch with annoyance as he nodded in response.

"A merchant? This is about Shale, isn't it?" Matthias said with a sigh, tugging at the bottom of his braid where it fell across his shoulder. "I should have known… that damnable golem has brought us nothing but trouble. My mother sold the control rod years ago, after the thing killed my father, and good riddance I thought… but now, here you are – and no doubt you've brought the rod with you."

"Wait, wait… you said it **killed** your father!" Alistair cried out, barreling forward and nearly toppling Elissa over into the man with his anxiety.

"My mother found him outside the tower – so many of his bones broken he was barely even recognizable…" Matthias grimaced, watching as Alistair glared at Elissa who only shrugged noncommittally in response. "Shale was standing over him just like it is now… are you certain you want to wake it up? It's better off… ugh… I don't care what you do with it, if you've got the rod it's **your** problem now."

"The rod doesn't work." Elissa said, listening to Alistair's heavy sigh beside her and rolling her eyes in response. "I tried it already, nothing happens."

"I suppose it's possible my mother might have passed along the wrong command phrase when she sold the rod…" Matthias mused, scratching at his chin. "She hated Shale, said she never wanted to see it active again – that it could stand there and rot, covered in bird droppings for all eternity for all she cared…" His eyes lit suddenly and he stepped forward, holding Elissa's eyes and smiling. "I can give you the correct command phrase… but I'll need your help in return."

"Never saw that one coming…" Zevran grumbled, padding away from her and waving his hands in the air when Elissa glared at him.

"What is it you need?" Elissa asked, seeing that no one would offer her support in this venture – even the ever-drunk Oghren had developed a distaste for golems after what happened with Branka.

"I know you already saved my life, and I **am** grateful… but my daughter… she's down below in the laboratory…" Matthias explained, gesturing to the door behind him. "She was afraid when the monsters came and got too far ahead… I couldn't stop her. I don't know how she made it past the defenses my father installed to prevent access…" He shook his head, trying not too hard to think about it. "I sent one of the men in to try and find her but he was… killed… you though… you could find her, couldn't you?"

"You said a man was killed looking for her… killed **how** exactly?" Alistair asked, trying to decide how much arguing was going to be required to talk Elissa out of this course of action.

"I'd imagine it was one of the defense systems my father installed to keep intruders out." Matthias explained – listening to everyone around him begin to mumble about traps and poison gas and what was the matter with all these nutty inventors. "I'm afraid I can't give you more information than that… I knew about the barrier, had the key for that… but beyond this point, I've no idea… we never came down here… ever."

"Pardon my callousness… but if a grown man died trying to chase after her, how can you expect a young girl to have survived the same hazards?" Zevran asked, raising his hands up and walking away when Elissa shushed him and narrowed her eyes in response.

"Y-you're right… I don't know that she's alive… but I'm terrified that something **has** happened to her and she's just lying in there injured!" Matthias pleaded, moving forward and taking Elissa's hand as if the touch of his skin would be the thing that swayed her heart. "Please, I can't leave here until I know for certain… you have to understand that…"

In a way she did. Walking away from Ostagar, not knowing if Fergus was dead or alive – not turning back and looking for him once they'd made it to the safety of Lothering – those were two of the hardest things Elissa had ever done. Even now she lay awake at night wondering if he was alive out there, if he was in pain and suffering, if he was wandering the countryside looking for her… if he was dead and his body would never be found.

"I will do this for you." Elissa said finally, ignoring the muttering of her companions.

"Oh, thank you, my Lady… praise the Maker for bringing you to me." Matthias smiled, taking Elissa's hands one after another and pressing them to his lips. "I will pray for your safe return."

"You know, if Morrigan were here – she'd say you would do anything for a man with a pretty face…" Alistair muttered, trying and failing to suppress his laughter.

"Not. One. More. Word." Elissa warned, throwing open the door that led down into the laboratory and glaring at him. "Or I'm not likely to be doing anything for **your** pretty face anytime soon..."

The path wound through what was, quite literally, a root cellar – the great underground tree branches winding in and out of the dirt walls around them draped with curtain sized spider webs.

"I swear, if there are giant spiders down here I'll turn right around and tell him I've changed my mind – child or no child – and the golem can just stay here and rot!" Elissa groused, swatting away some of the sticky filaments with the point of her sword.

"Would not." Alistair chuckled, dodging her hand as she tried to wipe some of it off onto his arm.

"Fine, I wouldn't!" Elissa snipped, entering the first large room they had encountered. "But I'd take great gobs of their stinky guts back up just to rub them on his pretty blonde head!"

In the center of the room lay the body of the man Matthias had sent down to seek his daughter. Zevran moved forward to check for a pulse, but he was indeed dead.

"I do not know what killed this man, my Warden." Zevran admitted, standing back up. "But I don't think it was a trap… nor have I seen signs of any that I recognize over the path we have already traveled."

"Leliana?" Elissa asked, turning to the bard for verification.

"Zevran is right, I've seen nothing that would leave me to believe there were traps here – tripped or otherwise." Leliana agreed, sharing a nod with the other two rogues.

"Then what happened to him?" Alistair mused, wandering around the edges of the room and looking for signs of anything that might have caused the man's demise.

"Oh, I don't know… but I'd imagine it might have something to do with **those**." Wynne said suddenly, gesturing serenely to the back of the room with her hand where the others turned to see a Dust Wraith and several Shades rising from the floor.

"Honestly?" Alistair whined angrily, pulling loose his sword and preparing to fight. "If it's not traps, it's demons… if it's not demons, it's giant disgusting spiders… will we ever be sent to recover something guarded by bunnies or puppies?"

"I'm fairly certain no one would ever be deterred by bunnies or puppies." Elissa laughed, running one of the Shades through with a blade and watching it puff into ash around her.

"I would… I'd be so thrown off and certain they were evil in spite of their cuteness I'd just turn right around and go away." Alistair insisted, finishing off a Shade of his own with an overhead smash of his shield.

* * *

><p>The group was still laughing as they made their way down the rickety wooden ramp that surrounded an underground spring and passed through another golden barrier that crossed the doorway into the final chamber. Inside the room was a large puzzle – great dials spewing flames through specific points. In front of it stood a young girl, whom Elissa assumed to be Matthias' daughter, and she was talking to a small orange cat.<p>

"Oh look, a kitty!" Alistair grinned, starting to stroll forward toward it.

"Wait… remember what you just said about puppies and bunnies?" Elissa whispered, watching recognition dawn on him as he shuffled away uncomfortably.

"Oh look!" the little girl laughed, patting the cat and turning to smile at Elissa and her companions. "Someone has come to play! We were so lonely down here."

"We… who is **we**, exactly?" Elissa asked, never taking her eyes off the cat – though it simply licked at its paw innocently.

"Kitty and me, of course! You don't see anyone else here, do you?" the girl said, rolling her eyes and stroking at the cat's head. "Anyway… you should go if you don't want to play. Kitty finds you distracting. She doesn't like the way you're looking at her. The blonde one can stay though…" the girl noted, pointing to Alistair with a short skinny finger. "Kitty likes him."

"I'm sorry…" Elissa sputtered, failing to hold back her laughter as Alistair tried to hide behind Sten when the child noted that the creepy cat liked him. "Did you just say that the **cat** finds me distracting?"

"Kitty is clever," the girl insisted, tilting her chin up defiantly and staring down the much older, much taller Elissa. "She says you've come to take me back to father, but I'm not going!"

"You are so kind, Amalia," said the cat… its eyes glowing with a purple light that pulsed with its words. "I would miss you dearly as you left."

"Pisica la discutii?" Zevran muttered – slipping into Antivan in his frustration.

"Talking is simple enough, once you know how," the cat replied, turning its glowing eyes onto the assassin – who continued to mutter in Antivan as he slipped further into the shadows of the room.

"Riiiiiight…" Elissa said, pacing around the cat a little – inspecting it carefully. "What are you **really**?"

"I am a cat… really," the cat answered simply.

"I doubt that... I'm guessing desire demon… I've seen those purple eyes of yours before – more times than I care to think on." Elissa continued, tapping at her chin thoughtfully.

"Nothing you can say will convince this child to go with you!" the cat spat, affected by the threat underneath Elissa's words. "She loves **me** now… I am her only friend. You are only a stranger."

"A stranger that knows your secret… **kitty**." Elissa chuckled, tapping one of her blades menacingly against a nearby stone tile.

"I have been bound to this chamber for centuries, cut off from all contact… it has been maddening!" the cat insisted, coming up from its seated position. "Release me, mortal… let me have this girl… let us return to her father and leave this place forever."

"Let you **have** the girl?" Elissa snorted, rolling her eyes… it was always the same with demons – so predictable. "You mean possess her."

"That is such a **crude** way of putting it," the cat replied, sitting back down in annoyance. "I do not wish to harm Amalia, I only want to see the world through her eyes… is that so wrong?"

"Fine." Elissa shrugged, sheathing her swords and watching the others follow suit – they knew her well enough at this point to understand that she would never follow through on the promises made to a demon unless she had no other choice. "All I have to do is return the child to her father to get what I need… tell me how to release you and you can have her."

"You are very gracious," the cat said, almost purring as it strolled over to stand at Elissa's side where she looked over the floor puzzle. "The mage's wards hold me within this chamber. Only a mortal can approach them and the child was not clever enough to find the pattern required to complete the puzzle."

"I've been told I'm good with puzzles," Elissa said, cracking her knuckles and moving to touch the first ward that needed to be moved.

* * *

><p>About thirty minutes later the puzzle pieces were all in place and Elissa turned back to the cat, waiting for some sign that she had succeeded in dropping the wards that held her within the chamber.<p>

"Yes… I can feel the magic fading…" the cat muttered, its words almost orgasmic in their excitement. "Oh… I had forgotten how good it feels not to be caged."

"Kitty?" the child said, backing away from the creature as its furry body started to glow and split apart revealing the demon within. "What's happening?"

"A wonderful thing, my dear," the demon explained, expanding into the scantily clad body of a desire demon just as Elissa had predicted it would. "For both of us."

"Ah, ah, ah… not so fast!" Elissa warned, watching the demon spin on her – its purple eyes seeing her draw out her swords with a smile. "I said I'd free you… I didn't say I'd let you live."

"Betrayal!" the demon hissed, her glowing eyes narrowing at Elissa in anger. "The girl is mine, I cannot let you take her!"

"The child belongs to her father." Elissa answered with a shrug, twirling her blades in her hands. "I cannot let you have her."

"Perhaps we can make a deal otherwise… simply release me, without the child… just allow me to leave this place – I will claim another body far away from here," the demon said, desperately trying to bargain with her. "There are things I can offer you, things you have lost… people you once adored…"

"You know, you desire demons have really got to find some new material… bribing me with Nathaniel isn't going to work anymore – I know he's gone, I'm never going to see him again – I've accepted that." Elissa replied, rolling her eyes.

"You sound awfully certain of that fact," the demon laughed, her connection to the Fade providing her with the knowledge that her words - though convincing - were far from true.

"I am." Elissa replied, shrugging her shoulders when she realized that she actually believed her words... it wasn't just something she was telling the demon and trying to convince herself of. "And even if I did somehow manage to find him again… it wouldn't matter. He moved on long ago and I've suffered under the weight of his memory for long enough – it did nothing but bring me pain." The demon followed her eyes to Alistair, and noted the way she smiled when she saw him. "I am happy now. There is nothing you can offer me that another does not already give me ten fold."

Elissa dropped her swords suddenly to her sides, watching the confusion etch through the demon's face for the split second it took Sten to shove the point of his great sword straight through her body.

"Demons." Elissa sighed, sheathing her swords and kicking the still twitching body one last time for good measure before they headed back up to find Amalia's father.

* * *

><p>Matthias was beyond pleased to see Amalia come charging out of the door and into his arms. He very nearly planted a kiss right on Elissa's lips before she turned her cheek to him in the last second, sharing a grin with a very flustered Alistair before they received the correct command code and made their way back to the golem in the square.<p>

"Dulen harn." Elissa said, holding out the rod toward it and speaking slowly and clearly – stumbling back when the thing started to creak and move almost immediately.

"Not even a mage this time… humph…" Shale mumbled, flexing its joints one by one as though it was checking them for damage. "Probably stumbled across the rod by accident… typical…"

"I did not just stumble across it!" Elissa said indignantly, waving the control rod about for emphasis.

"So it knew what it was doing? Shocking." Shale laughed, looking around the square slowly. "I have stood here in this spot, watching the villagers scurry around me for… oh… I have no idea. Many, many years."

"And the villagers had no idea they were being watched?" Alistair said, moving a bit closer and inspecting the golem with a curious eye. "Creepy!"

"I was just beginning to get used to the quiet…" Shale hissed, squinting its shiny golem eyes at Alistair in irritation. "Tell me, are **all **the villagers dead?"

"Not all of them, no." Elissa replied.

"Some got away then… how unfortunate." Shale chuckled, beginning to pick bits of dust and dirt off of its skin.

"You didn't care for them I take it?" Elissa asked, crossing her arms as she continued to inspect the creature – but keeping the control rod handy just in case.

"Familiarity breeds contempt, as they say, and after many years as a captive audience… I was as **familiar** with these villagers as one could possibly be." Shale explained, inspecting the faces of the houses one by one. "I did not wish their fates on them, no… but it **did** make for a delightful change of pace."

"Well that's a rotten sentiment." Alistair noted, crossing his arms and glaring at the golem with disappointment.

"Rotten, is it?" Shale snorted, returning Alistair's stare with ease. "Tell me, has it ever been held against its will?"

"Actually… being in the Chantry was very similar for me, I…" Alistair started, remembering how Eamon had sent him there against his will.

"Alistair!" Leliana hissed, covering her mouth and beginning to offer a silent prayer to the Maker for his forgiveness.

"Yes, dear… let's not rile the Chantry sister with blasphemy before dinner…" Elissa said, patting at Alistair's arm and rolling her eyes at Leliana who continued to pray, adding in some words for Elissa as well. "Do you have a name? I've been told you were called Shale, but that seems more what you are made of than what you should be called."

"Shale… yes, I am called Shale," the golem replied, tapping at its chin as though lost in memory. "I had forgotten after all the years of being called _golem_… _golem_ fetch me that chair… do be a good _golem_ and squash that insipid bandit…" Shale continued, her irritation building with every word. "Oh… and my personal favorite… _golem_ pick me up, I tire of walking…" It turned to Elissa suddenly, its eyes bright and curious. "It… **does** have the control rod, doesn't it? I am awake… so it **must**…"

"**It** certainly does, right in **its** hand." Elissa said, waving the rod about in annoyance. "Is something wrong?"

"I **see** the control rod, and yet I feel…" Shale started, moving forward toward Elissa quicker than she thought possible. "Go ahead… order me to do something!"

"What? Why?" Elissa replied, stepping back – startled by how adamant the golem seemed about this request.

"Oh, go on!" Shale insisted, smiling at her. "It will be fun."

"Fine, give Zevran a hug." Elissa said, gesturing to the elf who spat something at her in Antivan she was certain to be full of curses before vanishing in a puff of smoke.

"Nothing, I feel nothing!" Shale insisted joyously. "I feel no compulsion to carry out its command!" It continued, the joy fading quickly into melancholia. "I suppose this means the rod must be… broken…"

"Shouldn't you be happy about that?" Elissa asked, very confused.

"If I can't be commanded, then I must have free will… only, what should I do?" Shale asked, turning its glowing eyes to Elissa fully. "I have no memories beyond watching this village for so long… I have no purpose beyond that…" The golem continued, watching Elissa carefully for a reaction. "What about it? It must have awoken me for a reason… what did it intend to do with me?"

"Honestly, I intended to use you as a sentry for our camps as we traveled." Elissa admitted, listening to the golem sigh with irritation in response. "But… now that I know you… that just seems… **wrong**… I'm not really sure **what** to do with you at this point if you want the truth."

"I see. Wonderful." Shale groused, letting its arms fall heavily to its sides in defeat. "I suppose I have two options then. Go with it, or go elsewhere. I… do not even **know** what lies beyond this village."

"What do you **want** to do, Shale?" Elissa asked, watching the golem raise its glowing eyes to her once more.

"I watched this village for… so long… unable to move or act. My memories of anything before this are… vague at best." Shale explained, "I have no idea what I want to do. I am glad to be mobile. Is that not enough?"

"Matthias said you **killed** his father, your former master… do you remember that… or is that lost in the **vagueness**?" Alistair said, crossing his arms and letting the accusation in his tone carry his meaning both to Shale and Elissa.

"Did I? I remember that I **had** a former master. The mage with the furry brows who poked and prodded and barked orders…" Shale mused, looking around the village as though something else could stir its memories. "Did I kill him? I hope I did kill him! Perhaps the last order he barked was _golem_ stop crushing my head… ha!"

"I notice you don't call him _it_." Elissa noted with a smirk and the subtle raise of an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'm just funny that way." Shale answered.

"Are you going to keep calling me _it_?" Elissa asked, crossing her arms.

"It seems likely." Shale replied, crossing its own arms in response.

"How would you like to come along with us then?" Elissa asked, tossing the ineffective control rod to the ground and watching as Alistair scurried to pick it up and tuck it into his pack just in case.

"Are you certain you want to bring that thing with us?" Alistair asked, eying Shale cautiously. "It's dangerous and large… and can't even remember whether it killed its last master or not."

"He has a point, Shale." Elissa said, shrugging at the golems irritated grumble. "How do we know you can be trusted?"

"How can one trust **anything** without a control rod?" Shale postulated, watching Elissa nod in response. "I haven't killed it yet… I consider that a good sign."

Elissa laughed, rounding up the rest of her group and setting them on the road to the ruins of Ostagar – newly functional golem in tow.


	37. Chapter 37: In the Shadow of the Tower

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N: WARNING! **__There is some dark stuff in here - it's the Return to Ostagar, which was a pretty horrible and pivotal moment in both Alistair and Elissa's lives - and the beginning of their relationship. The __**NSFW**__ content is right at the very end so, if you don't want to expose yourself to it - feel free to skip the last bits. As per usual - it's not too graphic, but I pass my warnings along anyway._

_Thanks as usual to my readers, reviewers and followers and to my Lady Beta, **artemiskat**. :) _

_Happy Reading!_

_Minor edits 10-14-11.  
><em>

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Thirty-Seven: In the Shadow of the Tower<strong>_

"I have watched a lot of humans in my time…" Shale said, lumbering up to Elissa's side and breaking the silence she had carried herself in after setting the group on the path to Ostagar with the metallic tinkling of its voice. "It should be aware that I have decided it is… not much like any of them."

"But, surely you know that I **am** human Shale…" Elissa replied, not sure what the golem was getting at – and not really in the mood to listen to another treatise on how _different_ she was, how _special_ she seemed for one reason or another.

"Technically, perhaps…" Shale acknowledged, grumbling in the way that only golems could. "But…according to the many years I spent observing the average human in Honnleath, I can see that it has little in common with **them**," the golem hissed, tsking in disgust at their memory. "Surely it must come from some superior lineage… some breed of flesh creature that has decided to elevate its genetic stock **above** its natural shortcomings."

"Well, my father was the Teyrn of Highever… so technically I'm nobility – though I'm not sure that really makes a difference…" Elissa said, thinking of all the nobles she knew that were essentially worthless despite the benefit of their, supposed, _superior_ genetic stock.

"Oh? Then that **must** be it! I knew there had to be **some** reason, it being human and all." Shale intoned, sighing its metallic sigh. "I would appreciate it if it didn't spread around that I said anything **positive** about the squishies. The other flesh creatures might start to get the wrong idea… might start believing they are not hopeless."

"Pssht… well, we can't have that!" Elissa chuckled, smiling at the strange creature built of stone and metal and a human soul.

"Indeed! Can it imagine the horror?" Shale laughed in response. "I do have a question for it, if it will indulge me…"

"You are allowed to speak freely, Shale. You don't have to ask permission." Elissa insisted, reaching over to pat the golem's crystal encrusted shoulder carefully. "The control rod is broken, and even if it wasn't – I have no desire to have a slave of any kind – metallic or otherwise."

"Alright then… I have spoken with the stinky small one…" Shale began, grimacing.

"Oghren?" Elissa asked, chuckling a bit at the description. It was brutal but accurate.

"Is that its name?" Shale sniffed, dusting at its arms. "I thought that saying it must involve a great number of belches and other gaseous emissions… regardless, it gave me the impression you encountered the smith Caridin – he who was responsible for the creation of the golems – and that he had become a golem himself." The lumbering construction continued, "It would not tell me what became of him, and why he did not return with it… I would have many questions for him…"

"I'm so sorry, Shale…" Elissa said, her brow wrinkling at the golem – sharing in the sadness of what could never be known. "Caridin took his own life shortly after we found him."

"He… **killed** himself? I would doubt it but… no, I see it is telling the truth." Shale replied, and Elissa could hear its hopes drifting away. "May I ask what became of the Anvil of the Void, assuming that – it too – still existed?"

"I destroyed it at Caridin's request." Elissa replied sheepishly. "He felt that the price paid to create golems, like yourself, was too great and that it could not be allowed to continue to exist in a world where those using it could not be trusted to do so honorably."

"Then it was no doubt for the best…" Shale mused sadly. "Tell me… did it find anything out from Caridin… anything at all about how I might have been made?"

"Yes, quite a bit actually." Elissa nodded, gladly sharing what she had learned with her newest companion – feeling it was only fair considering she had destroyed any hope that it could learn about its creation otherwise. "The Anvil constructed golems using living souls."

"Meaning… that **I** was once a living creature?" Shale said, shock and disbelief evident its tone. "That seems highly unlikely, and more than a little insulting… Is it certain?"

"I'm not trying to insult you, Shale." Elissa insisted, leaning forward to hold its glowy little eyes. "Caridin told me himself, and we found a monument which listed of the names of those who sacrificed themselves to forge the golem army. I can take you to the Shaperate in Orzammar to see it at some point, if you'd like. Perhaps you'll find your own name listed among those honored there."

"Hmmm… I wonder… was I forced into this – or was I simply glad to abandon a frail body?" Shale pondered, the scrape of stone and metal sounding beside Elissa as it stroked at its tiny face. "More importantly… who **was** I? I simply must know! I cannot help but believe that the answers must lie within the Deep Roads – just as the Anvil and its creator once did. Could we look there when next our travels carry us nearby?"

"Did you have anywhere specific in mind? The Deep Roads are an awfully large and dangerous place to just go wandering about looking for clues…" Elissa said, holding her hands up defensively when the golem just glared in response to her reluctant answer.

"If it can search the Deep Roads… I may… **remember** something." Shale said, crossing its arms. "If not… then I suppose I will have to wait even longer…"

"All right, all right!" Elissa sighed, rolling her eyes. "But I don't think we need to look… I think they used the soul of my mother to give you life the way you slather on the guilt…"

Shale said nothing in response, but as Elissa moved away she swore she saw the golem smile approvingly at the thought.

* * *

><p>The closer the company drew to Ostagar – the more distant and withdrawn Elissa, Alistair and even Wynne became. The tension began to wear heavily on the other companions who hadn't been there for the battle or the betrayal – but all of whom knew enough from the bits of information they'd overheard and the haunted looks in the eyes of their friends to understand the reluctance with which they all returned to this place.<p>

The old ruins were now fully blighted – the ground black and dead beneath the heavy drifts of snow and ash and the hefty piles of detritus left behind after the battle that had waged there months before. The area was littered with corpses no matter where they turned their eyes.

They were set upon by three Genlocks as soon as they broke into the edge of the ruins – but the minions didn't stand a chance against them and fell quickly beneath the powerful swings of steel and the silent rush of arrows.

"Something about returning here makes me feel very old…" Alistair said, coming to a stop beside Elissa and following her eyes as they passed out over the expanse of earth in front of them – trying to find something familiar within the landscape that would allow her to get her bearings. "I was a… different person here… one I can scarcely recognize any more." She moved away, her eyes finding purchase on the toppled remnants of the cages that had been used to hold prisoners sending her sprinting in that direction. "I believed him… Cailan… when he said that it would be a glorious battle… that we would win."

"We all believed him." Elissa replied, kneeling down and softly closing the eyes of the man inside the cage – body broken and bloodied and left to rot. "I spoke to this man the day I arrived. He'd been arrested for desertion and jammed in this cage. They weren't even feeding him properly." Alistair winced, watching her stand and dust the filth off her hands she'd acquired by touching his body - lost in the memory of the time she'd spent nicking his guard's lunch so that the poor gaunt man could eat for the first time in days "That they could leave him locked in that thing to die is… **unconscionable**…"

"I doubt they knew what was going to happen, Elissa." Wynne whispered, sighing when the young woman rolled her eyes in response. "This cruelty was not planned, simply the result of the horde overrunning the encampment."

"It was still **allowed** to happen. They knew there was the possibility that the horde could make it inside the camps. Keeping this man caged was... if they cared so little for him, the should have just executed him and been done with it." Elissa replied, moving the group forward into the area that had been the location set aside for the War Council. "That body could easily have been Sten's you know... if we'd left him in that cage back in Lothering." She added, narrowing her eyes on the mage as she watched her words hit home "Knowing him now, as you do, I doubt you'd be so quick to lay his death square on the horde's shoulders knowing that it was the Revered Mother who locked him in there and left him to die."

The great wooden table that had once held Loghain's maps when he laid out his imaginary strategy for Cailan lay broken on its side and Elissa was staggered for a moment at the memory that she had last spoken with the young King on this very spot.

"Steady." Alistair said, laying a hand on her shoulder when she stumbled – his words flashing her back into the layer of another memory - this one of them standing on the opposite side of the bridge to the Tower when she'd first felt the sensation of the darkspawn stirring in her blood.

"I'm sorry I…" Elissa replied, rubbing at her eyes and trying to wipe away the memories.

"It's okay." Wynne assured her, reaching forward to pat her arm. "Take a moment if you need to."

"This was the last place I spoke with him…" Elissa said, reaching out to touch the broken wood at her feet as she knelt down beside it.

"Cailan?" Alistair asked, though he already knew the answer. His mind had gone back to that night almost immediately upon seeing the table they stood in front of. He remembered the King calling her back with his slightly crooked smile, and the way Elissa had avoided his and Duncan's eyes as she returned at his request.

"He wanted to make sure I was okay with what he had asked us to do… and I tried to talk him into sending me alone. You were so **angry** that he'd asked you to escort me." Elissa laughed ruefully, the memory of Alistair railing away at Duncan about how unfair it was so clear in her mind it felt like it had only happened moments before.

"Seems silly now, doesn't it?" Alistair chuckled, pulling her back to her feet – reaching forward to hold her cheek in his palm. "If I'd known what we would become in time… I'd never have questioned it. I'd have **insisted** I go at your side, even if Cailan hadn't ordered me to do so."

"He tried to kiss me, Alistair." Elissa blurted out, unable to hold it in while the memory lingered so close to her and Alistair stood in front of her looking so very much like the fallen King that now lived only in her mind. The memory sent horrible, heavy wave of guilt surging through her. "I didn't let him… but he tried."

"He… **what**… I-I…" Alistair stuttered, backing away from her slightly. "I don't understand… you never said anything about…"

"We weren't together then. We barely even **knew** each other." Elissa said, reaching out to take his hands – trying to explain well enough to calm the betrayal in his eyes before the belief that he was somehow only a poor replacement for his dead brother could completely consume him. "After everything that happened here… and then waking up in Flemeth's shack… I just wanted to forget it all … I hadn't even thought about it until I saw this table again."

She wanted to say more… so much more, but she didn't get the chance. The growl of darkspawn pulled their eyes to the ramp at the rear of the area and the six Hurlock and Genlock minions descending it – led by an Alpha Strider.

The flash of gold plate caught Elissa's eye after the last of them had fallen, and she rushed forward – dropping to her knees at the Strider's feet and wiping away some of the muck on his boots.

"What's the matter?" Alistair asked, sheathing his sword and moving to her side – trying to see what it was that had caught her attention so fully and had her so upset.

"These greaves were Cailan's!" Elissa said – her voice cracking as she tugged at the boots on the creature's feet. "To find them here… **pawed** over by the darkspawn and coated in their filth… in their **rot**…"

"I know…" Alistair replied, kneeling down beside her – helping to remove them, to wipe away as much of the filth as he could so that she could stow them in her pack without ruining everything inside of it. "I feel it too…"

"He is not the first King to fall in battle." Wynne said, and Alistair cringed at her choice of words. The woman did not know of Elissa's connection to his half-brother but her timing was, as usual, impeccable. "Nor is he the first whose possessions were lost to the darkspawn."

"He is the first I knew** personally**." Elissa hissed, rising quickly to her feet – stepping quickly to glare into Wynne's eyes – her emerald irises glittering dangerously. "The first I have **known** since I was but a child… this wound cuts deeper than words on the pages of a dusty old tome… and so, you will have to forgive me if I mourn his loss more than seems proper to you – if I gather up his things rather than allow them to be left here and forgotten."

"I know you cared for the King, dear." Wynne replied, her face cool and calm as always – showing no reaction to the venom Elissa spewed in her anger other than the compassion that had always been there. "And this wound will bleed longer than most because of that… but we must keep moving. I have no doubt that the darkspawn who still linger here are eager to give us more to mourn."

"Wynne is right, love." Alistair said, reaching forward and taking her hand. "I can feel more approaching while we stand here arguing."

In that moment Elissa realized where it was she stood – her eyes passing up the ramp they stood at the base of and remembering…

_"Duncan sent word. He spoke quite highly of you, though he did neglect to mention the part about you being so pretty…" he explained, color creeping into his cheeks as he blushed at his own flirtation. "Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Alistair, the newest Grey Warden… prior to yourself, of course… though I guess if you've come to find me you must already know that…"_

_"Pleased to meet you, I'm Elissa," she replied, reaching out to slide her hand into his and accept the greeting that had been offered, unable to resist widening her smile just a little as he continued to fight against his bashful stuttering in the presence of a "pretty" girl._

"This is where we first met…" Elissa said, holding onto Alistair's hand and tugging him along behind her as she moved up the ramp and into the ruins of the old temple at its end.

"I hardly recognized it but… you're right… it was right here on this very spot." Alistair smiled, thinking back on his memory of her striding up that ramp in the sunlight. It all seemed so far away.

She moved off suddenly, digging something out of the snow and inspecting it carefully before shoving it into her pack and returning to his side then taking his hand again – moving them forward toward the area where the quartermaster had once set up his shop.

* * *

><p>The quartermaster's body lay pinned to the ground with the sword that had undoubtedly killed him – a gruesome reminder of just how much had been lost during those hours after Loghain's betrayal. Elissa half wondered whether it had been darkspawn or Loghain's men that had ultimately done him in.<p>

They fought their way through another swarm of minions, a Genlock Forge Master and a Hurlock Alpha before things calmed enough for Elissa to search Elric's secret spot and locate the hidden key. It was there, at the base of the statue behind what had once been the Mage's Enclave, just as his map had said it would be.

When they passed the kennels, Elissa was disheartened to see them torn apart – the fallen corpses of mabari strewn about on the ground like logs in the dirt. They tried to make their way toward the Royal Enclave but were pounced on by a group of Blight wolves and Genlock rogues.

"That one's got Cailan's shield." Elissa hissed, drawing Alistair's attention to the Hurlock Vanguard that had just made his presence known – and he could see she was telling the truth.

Sten took him down and removed the shield, striding over and offering it to Elissa who slung it onto her back silently. Alistair had stopped just ahead next to what she recognized as the remnants of Duncan's old bonfire.

"They've gone out of their way to defile this spot." Alistair grimaced, noting the bodies and tribal structures hanging all around him. "They must still be able to sense some of the power he had over them… even now after he's been gone so long."

Elissa squeezed his hand softly, then turned and made her way to Cailan's trunk – opening it with the key Elric had hidden and retrieving the things inside.

"So it's true!" Alistair whispered, sitting down at her side and reading the letters she held over her shoulder. "He did manage to convince Orlais to ally with us against the darkspawn."

"Empress Celene was just awaiting his response." Elissa nodded, flipping through the pages hastily.

"A response that never came, and now never will thanks to Loghain's treachery…" Alistair spat, his jaw twitching in anger.

"I have them now…" Elissa said, patting his hand. "We will see what that can do for us in the future."

"Is that… that's Eamon's handwriting!" Alistair said, watching as Elissa's eyes ran across the page she had just turned to – hearing her suck in a breath and narrow her eyes at whatever it was she read there. "What? What does it say?"

"Apparently Eamon was concerned that Anora was sterile as she and Cailan had been unable to conceive an heir…" Elissa said, flipping to the next page. "He, **not** so subtly, suggests that Cailan find a suitable replacement for her – someone who could bear him a son to carry on the Theirin bloodline…"

"It is a logical suggestion – King's need heirs else the country falls into disarray with their death." Wynne said, folding her arms solemnly. "Much as we see now."

"I agree… however… **my** name is mentioned directly as a suitable match…" Elissa explained, allowing Alistair to snatch parchment away from her to see with his own eyes that what she said was true. "As is that of Empress Celene in order to…" she leaned back over and traced her finger along the paper to find the phrase she was looking for, "ah yes, here is the part I was looking for... _foster a lasting alliance between our two nations_."

"I-I… there must be an explanation for this…" Alistair said, still trying to defend his Uncle despite the now tangible evidence that his motives for placing Alistair on the throne could not possibly be completely altruistic.

"I can think of several…" Elissa replied, pulling the last object from the chest and standing – reaching over to retrieve the letters and stow them in her pack with her free hand.

"Elissa… I know that you…" Alistair started, allowing his words to trail off when the look she gave him illustrated she was in no mood for it.

"This is a discussion for another time, Alistair... but it is a discussion that will be had... **with** Eamon." Elissa insisted, eyes flashing dangerously when he thought for a brief moment about responding. "Here." she said, shoving the hilt of a blade into his hand. "This belonged to your father… you should have it now."

"Maric's sword?" Alistair said, his eyes going wide as his hands touched the hilt of it. "I've heard legends of this blade… but Cailan wouldn't even use it… it doesn't seem right that I should…"

"Cailan wouldn't use it because he said it was for a different kind of man." Elissa replied, moving up the ramp to the training grounds and the path that would lead them to the bridge spanning the valley between the city proper and the Tower of Ishal. "**You** are that man, Alistair. It's your blade now."

* * *

><p>Alistair hefted the sword, swinging it a couple of times to test the weight of it – finally dropping his old sword to the ground and anchoring his father's blade to his back in its place. By the time he caught up to the group, Elissa had already started out onto the bridge.<p>

He heard her cry out before he saw what had upset her, only realizing why she was so distraught when he followed her eyes up the hastily erected wooden cross on which hung the corpse of his half-brother and King.

She shoved at the base of it, trying to topple it over – desperate to get him off, to give him some dignity instead of leaving him there, just a bloody naked mess that dangled awkwardly before them. At the other end of the bridge stood a Genlock Necromancer who sneered at them before sending a wave of Hurlock minions and reanimated skeleton warriors down upon them.

Elissa ignored them all, continuing to try to get Cailan down to no avail while her companions dealt with the enemies all around her.

"Help me, Alistair!" Elissa wailed, tears streaking through the dirt and blood on her face. "I know you had no love for him… I know you barely knew him, but he was your brother and your King and he deserves better than this… please, I **beg** of you… help me get him down… I'm too small… I can't get to him… I'm not strong enough…"

Alistair moved toward her, inspecting her bloody shredded fingertips where the metal and wood had cut into her flesh as she worked to free Cailan's body. He waved Wynne over to inspect her wounds – moving with Sten to bring his brother's body down from where it was anchored and lay it gently to the ground.

Her hands healed, Elissa dashed over to Cailan's side – reaching into her pack and pulling out her blanket – using it to cover his body as best she could, knowing they could not see to him properly while so many darkspawn still roamed the grounds around them.

"Forgive me…" she whispered, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind his ear – marveling at how the cold had somehow managed to preserve his body against the worst signs of decay – were it not for the blood and the awkward position of broken limbs, he could almost be sleeping. "I'll not leave you for much longer this way… I promise…"

Alistair turned away, unable to look when she pressed her lips against his forehead before covering his face for the last time. Whether it was out of disgust that she could kiss a rotting corpse or the affirmation of her relationship with his dead brother that made him do so, no one could say.

* * *

><p>As they stepped off the other end of the bridge, Elissa was hit by wave after wave of memories. It was here that she had first felt the sensation of the darkspawn in her blood – those same creatures swarming her in that moment that now set upon them in the present. They cut through three or four waves of minions, finally felling the Hurlock Strategist and Hurlock General that held Cailan's gauntlets and breastplate just outside the door to the Tower.<p>

"The Tower of Ishal…" Alistair whispered, staring up at the door.

"I never thought I'd see it again." Wynne stated, sighing heavily as Elissa cleaned away what muck she could from the most recent pieces of Cailan's armor – stowing them in Sten's pack now that hers was full.

"We lost that soldier here on the steps…" Elissa said, looking around but seeing no remnants of his body. "Do you remember?"

"How could I forget?" Alistair half laughed, thinking back on that moment. "It was the first time I ever saw you fight like a berserker… you were furious, cut through wave after wave of darkspawn like they were nothing – all the way up to that Ogre. I'd never seen anything like it."

They were forced to tumble to the sides of the entryway immediately after opening the doors of the tower, dodging the main force of the fireball that the Necromancer tossed at them and scrambling up quickly to engage the waves of minions he sent to distract them while he escaped out the rear of the large central chamber.

"Speaking of Ogres…" Zevran muttered, tilting his head slightly and calling their attention to the great beast lumbering forward at them.

Elissa laughed a little, watching Sten shoot past her shoulder and take on the giant with Oghren quick at his heels. Behind her Shale grabbed one Hurlock after another, slamming them into the floor or the wall and then tossing them aside like rag dolls.

"I don't feel right being here…" Elissa said, rubbing her hands over her arms and trying to shake off the sensation as they pressed forward.

"What do you mean?" Alistair asked, making pace beside her as they passed through the two rooms that would lead to the staircase that moved them up higher in the tower.

"I mean… I feel like I shouldn't be here…" Elissa tried to explain; unable to make him fully understand. "I **died** here Alistair, just up those stairs – in the big room with the fireplace where we were sent to light the beacon that was supposed to save us all."

"This case of death is taking a while to kick in then…" Wynne quipped, echoing her own words back to her and watching Elissa reply with a roll of her eyes.

"You laugh… but I'm serious." Elissa said, watching Alistair pull his eyes away – the thought of her falling to those arrows, then lying there pale and motionless in Flemeth's rickety little bed for so long afterward more than he cared to think on for very long. "If I'm a cat I'm on my fourth life already… that only gives me five left to work with…"

"That's not funny." Alistair insisted, wrinkling his brow at her when she stopped and fiddled with the lock on the door in front of them.

"Well, we're not going through there." Elissa said, ignoring Alistair's complaints about the frivolous way she treated her own life. "Only way forward is down through their entry tunnels."

"Ugh… I don't even want to think about what's down there…" Alistair groaned, watching Elissa lower herself over the edge and drop softly to the ground below.

"Looks to be the ruins of the old Tevinter Catacombs." Elissa called, her voice echoing up to him from the bottom as the others started to drop in after her – leaving him to do the same. "They're in pretty bad shape, close to collapsing… must be how they got in so easily."

They pressed forward through corrupted spiders and several more waves of darkspawn minions, until they found themselves at a hole in the base of the tower just outside the safety of the city walls.

"How on earth did they miss this?" Alistair wondered aloud, the wall was obviously crumbling – any scout worth his salt would have repaired this before the battle.

"My guess… Loghain was in charge of securing the area." Elissa said, eying the valley before them with sad eyes. This is where Duncan and Cailan and all of the men who believed in their words had made their final stand. "Duncan was too busy to follow up on it and Cailan would have trusted him when he said things were fine. He had no reason to believe otherwise."

"The poor dolt never saw it coming." Alistair sighed, shaking his head.

"Cailan was no more stupid than you are, Alistair." Elissa insisted, blinking slowly at him - shocked that she would echo the sentiment she'd heard from the mouth of both her brother and Nathaniel time and time again. "He wanted to believe that we were all good at heart, that there was some innate part of our souls that made us strive to be better… to do more… He was naive, perhaps – but not stupid."

Alistair knew that she was right, following her around the corner and onto the field where so many had died as a result of Loghain's betrayal. In the middle of the open span of land lay the corpse of the very large Ogre, the very one that had crushed the King's body - though they had no way of knowing it. The former Warden-Commander's blades still protruded from the front of its massive chest catching Elissa's eye.

She started to move forward, wanting to inspect them more closely when the corpse stirred to life – forcing her eyes to move to the rear of the enclosure where the Necromancer they had been chasing now stood.

"Zevran, Alistair… go get him." Elissa insisted, falling into a defensive stance and circling the ogre before throwing herself onto it – using the blades lodged in its chest for leverage as she scrambled up onto it's shoulders while Sten and Oghren hacked away at its legs and torso.

Shale stood back with Wynne protecting the mage from the occasional corpses that would spring to life around her.

A short time later, the last darkspawn were dead and Alistair watched Elissa walking toward him holding a dagger and a sword.

"Those were Duncan's." Alistair noted, reaching out to take the hilts reverently. "Did you… did you see his…"

"I saw no signs of his body." Elissa replied, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Alistair. Wherever they've taken him, we aren't likely to find him now. But he went down fighting, killed that Ogre and who knows how many more in the process."

"I'm not surprised. I wouldn't have expected anything less." Alistair sighed, tucking Duncan's dagger into his pack with the intent of purchasing a new sheath for it the next chance he got before turning to Elissa who knelt prying loose Cailan's helm from the Necromancer. "Here…" he said, echoing her earlier phrasing as he flipped the sword around to offer the hilt in her direction. "I think he would have wanted you to have this."

"What? You're giving me Duncan's sword?" Elissa said, hesitating to take it – knowing what it meant to him. "I barely knew him, Alistair – the man was like a father to you… I can't take this."

"He thought a lot of you, Elissa." Alistair insisted, reaching over and forcing the hilt into her open palm then closing her fingers around it. "He spoke of you as though you had the potential to be the best of all of us… it was a compliment not given easily and a sentiment that I know now was not misplaced… besides, I have my father's blade now and I can't carry two swords. I'll keep his dagger, you take the sword. I like the idea that together we'll make the pair complete."

"You always find the right thing to say." Elissa said, leaning forward and planting a solid kiss on his lips – pulling the Green Blade from her back and tossing it to Sten for safe keeping – then anchoring Duncan's blade in its place.

"Let's go say goodbye to the King." Alistair said, wrapping his arm around her and leading them back along the path to where they'd left his body.

When they reached it, Sten hefted it blanket and all up into his arms and they carried him across the bridge and out into the center of the main camp – gathering up all of the lumber and brush they could find and building a pyre.

Once it was complete, Sten gently lay the King's body atop the pile and Wynne lit it with a fire spell – moving to a spot next to Alistair and Elissa while they silently said their final goodbyes to their friend, brother, and King.

* * *

><p>Elissa pressed them forward into the Wilds as much as she dared in the fading light of day, stopping inside the old ruins of another Tevinter structure and hoping its mostly solid walls would provide them some sense of security over the course of the night ahead of them.<p>

Once camp had been set, everyone had gone about their own separate business – choosing to deal with the stresses of the day in their own way. Alistair insisted on discussing everything with Wynne in more detail – and, as Elissa had no desire to continue to relive what had easily been one of the worst days in her memory, she had separated herself to the opposite end of the camp, taking up a spot on a log near the bonfire where she set about cleaning the pieces of armor she had retrieved.

"I have been mistaken." Sten's voice rumbled as he emerged from the shadows at the edge of the firelight and took a seat on the other end of the log from her.

"What do you mean?" Elissa asked, looking up briefly from her task before turning her eyes back to the piece of Cailan's armor she was currently working on.

"You **are** a soldier worthy to stand among the Beresaad." Sten replied, watching the edges of her mouth curve up into a smile. "I did not think so when we first met."

"This much I knew…" Elissa chuckled, tossing the gauntlet she had been scrubbing at aside and picking up the other. "I believe you called me a silly woman and doubted that I was actually one of the mythological Grey Wardens on a number of occasions…" She smirked as the qunari rumbled with laughter of his own. "May I ask what it is that changed your mind?"

"You, of course." Sten replied, watching her look up at him incredulously.

"I find it hard to believe that anything about the way I behaved today changed your opinion of my capabilities as a warrior." Elissa snorted, rubbing hard at a particularly bothersome gob of darkspawn goo.

"You are much too hard on yourself, kadan." Sten sighed, crossing his arms and inspecting her as a father would a child. "I have heard stories of what happened in those ruins… that you went back there on your own, that you treated your King with such honor and conducted yourself with strength and dignity – these things only add to what I have already come to know about you," the qunari mused, watching Elissa blush slightly in response to his complements. "The fact that you beat me at single combat didn't hurt either…"

"Ha! I'd forgotten all about that." Elissa laughed, swatting his arm lightly with her polishing cloth. "That's all sorted out now, right… I don't fancy ever having to do that again."

"There will come a day when the Arishok sends us here." Sten replied, holding Elissa's eyes seriously. "On that day, I will not look to find you on the battlefield."

"Nor will I look for you." Elissa replied, knowing that was as close to a promise of loyalty as she was ever likely to receive from Sten or any of his kind.

He left her with a smile, stopping for a brief second to squeeze her shoulder – even allowing her to cover his much larger hand with her own and squeeze it in return. Elissa chuckled softly, shaking her head at the odd series of events that had brought each of her companions into her life and knowing she was better for having known each of them.

* * *

><p>When Elissa finally made her way into their tent, Alistair was curled up under his blanket reading the book on the Qun that Sten had given him and making notations of things to ask him in the margins of the pages.<p>

"You're going to drive him crazy." Elissa laughed, settling her pack on the ground beside their bedroll and taking off her boots and leggings before tucking herself under the blanket next to Alistair.

"I have questions!" Alistair said, pursing his lips at her and closing the book – laying it down next to them and pulling her close to his side – noting that she didn't lie down as he had expected she would.

"I'm sorry its going to be such a cold night…" she said, eying the small blanket they now had to share with a sheepish eye – remembering that hers had burned along with Cailan in the pyre back at Ostagar. "I'll try not to steal the blankets from you."

"I'd appreciate that," he chuckled, squeezing her knee affectionately. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd even have to share them. You didn't seem to be moving from the fire anytime soon."

"I wanted to finish cleaning Cailan's armor… I felt like I **had** to do it or I wouldn't be able to sleep." Elissa explained, hoping that he would understand – seeing that he didn't.

"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if my brother had lived?" Alistair asked, picking at his cuticles anxiously – refusing to meet her eyes.

"You mean do I wonder if he'd have proposed to me eventually now that I know Eamon was pressing him to do so?" she asked, watching him nod. "It would never have happened, and even if it had - I'd never have said yes… and now it doesn't matter at all."

"Eamon wanted Cailan to pursue other options… and from what you told me about that last night at Ostagar… he **clearly** still had feelings for you," he responded, folding his arms back behind his head and staring up at the roof of the tent.

"Alistair… will you stop this?" Elissa insisted, climbing on top of him and staring down into his face. "If I'd wanted to be with your brother, I could have done so years ago – long before Anora took his hand… but I had no desire to then, no desire to that night at Ostagar – and even had he lived, I'd have **no** desire to now." She leaned forward, taking his face in her hands, stroking the sides of his lips with her thumbs. "There is only one Theirin I desire – that I have ever desired - and that is **you**, Alistair – not your brother." He tried to turn his eyes away from her, but she wouldn't allow it – she held him steady forcing him to see the truth in her eyes. "The relationship that I had with Cailan was… complicated, but not romantic – at least not from my perspective. He was a dear friend, and my King – and I cared for him a great deal – but I was never in love with him, and I am very much in love with you."

He kissed her then, slowly at first – softly tugging at her bottom lip with his teeth until she opened her mouth for him and let his tongue slide inside. He wanted to believe the sweet words she said to him were true – **needed** to believe it… but in his mind all that he could see was the way that Cailan's eyes had watched her that night when he called her back to his side after the War Council… and the way she had placed a gentle kiss to the cold skin of his forehead after they pulled him down from the darkspawn's crucifixion.

Though he held her now, her voice humming softly in pleasure as he tugged her shirt then her breast band free of her body and tucked his thumb under the edge of her small clothes, he wondered if she saw his brother's face when she looked at him… if she wondered what his hands would have felt like against her skin.

He should have been happy, should have been able to take her at her word. She had never given him reason to doubt her – especially when it came to Cailan. He had no reason to believe that their relationship had been anything other than the friendship Elissa explained it to be – regardless of what his brother might have wanted. But he couldn't let it go… and in those moments when he should have been taking comfort in her the simple way she wanted to take comfort in him – when he should have been putting the nightmare of Ostagar behind him and moving forward with the wonderful woman who had only moments ago reminded him just how in love with **him** she was… all he wanted to do was to lay claim to her in some way that would supersede everything Cailan had ever been to her… in a way that would push away everything even the memory of him could ever be.

When he rolled her over, pressing her into the half softness of their bedroll, he did not do so gently – and when she looked up at him with a question and confusion in her emerald eyes – he addressed it with a kiss that bruised, and a quick shove of her underthings to the side so that he could join himself with her completely.

"Alistair…" she muttered, chuckling uncomfortably and trying not to be freaked out or upset by his unusual behavior. Alistair had never hurt her before, and she had no reason to believe he would do so now. "What's the hurry? Do we have an appointment somewhere that I've forgotten about?"

"Stop talking," was his response – pressing his lips to hers hard enough to draw blood this time and rocking into her with such force that it started to hurt a bit.

"Can we… c-can we slow down for a minute?" Elissa asked, pressing lightly at his arms – trying to get him to pull back far enough that she could see his face, try to read whatever it was that was going on in his head through his eyes.

"Honestly… please… stop… talking…" Alistair punctuated each word with a kiss – first to her mouth, then to her neck, then to her collarbone… and finally to her breast, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking hard enough to bring Elissa's breath hissing through her teeth.

He mistook this response for encouragement – she'd liked it back in Orzammar when he'd taken over, pressed the advantage of his size slightly. He didn't see that the situation was different then. He didn't see that Elissa was uncomfortable and hurting and completely confused by the way he was acting now.

He finished quickly, his frustration and anxiety diverting his ability to focus to the point that he lost himself in the motion of the act – in the sensation of being inside her – in the way she felt, and smelled, and tasted – and just let go. When he was done – he rolled over and pulled his pants back into place – watching Elissa hastily tug her shirt over her head in the flickering candle light of their tent.

"Now that you're done with me… can you at least tell me what that was all about?" Elissa whispered, and he sat up at the waver in her voice – leaning forward close enough to see that she was crying.

"Done with you? Elissa... why are you crying?" Alistair asked, reaching over to touch her cheek and watching her pull away from him.

"You're kidding, right?" she blubbered, her harsh laugh blowing the salty spray of her tears onto his cheek.

"No… I honestly don't know… I thought you…" he started, watching her wrap her arms around her knees and bury her face against the skin there muttering and sobbing in the cloth of her worn navy shirt before looking at him again.

"When I'm with you Alistair – I feel safe, and happy, and **loved**… you're such a good man… so warm with such an open heart. It's why I fell for you so hard, so fast. These things were always true… they were my constant… you were a light for me in dark places..." Elissa explained, sobbing through the words and waving him to silence any time he started to interrupt. "Until tonight. Tonight you made me feel like nothing more than a piece of meat. Like a warm body you could shove yourself into. You made me feel dirty, and empty, and** used**… and I don't understand** why**… what I did to deserve this, what I did to make you act this way... because, whatever I did… whatever** this** was… it wasn't you… You're not this man, you're better than this – or at least I thought you were."

"Oh, Maker…" Alistair said, running his fingers into his hair and tugging as the realization of what he'd done washed over him. "Elissa I'm… I'm so sorry… I don't know what came over me I kept thinking about Cailan and I couldn't get the thought of you together out of my head."

"And, what? You thought you'd teach me a lesson? Bang the memory of him right out of me?" she replied, her eyes brimming with tears and the pain of a wounded heart – that she could make such a mistake in judging what someone was capable of yet again was eating at her like a cancer - bringing up memories of Nathaniel she'd believed had finally been forgotten.

"No, I… bloody hell I didn't intend to punish you in any way… I just… blast this, Elissa," he huffed, covering his face with his hands and forcing a shaking breath through his fingers before drawing them down and looking at her again. "I don't know what to say, I feel horrible… I'll go sleep elsewhere if you want…"

"That's not necessary." Elissa said, reaching over to take his hand – offering a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes but that allowed him to hope that at some point she would forgive him. "Can you just… can you just hold me until I fall asleep? I'd just like to put all of this behind me…"

"Elissa… I think we should probably talk this out – what I did was, **bad**… it isn't the kind of thing you go to sleep without addressing…" Alistair insisted, watching her curl up beside him but not laying down.

"Please, Alistair, and I'm not saying this to instigate things further… but you got what you needed tonight – can you please do this for me – it's what I need…" she said, patting the pillow next to her and pleading with him in her eyes.

He felt so wretched; he had no choice but to give in.


	38. Chapter 38: Of Wolves and Elves

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N: **__Got some more really nice reviews after the last few updates! Thank you for each and every word :) It really makes my day to hear that my work is well received. I honestly do welcome all questions, comments and suggestions so feel free to send them my way via review or PM if you don't want to post publicly!_

_Hugs as usual to all my readers, followers and reviewers and to my Lady Beta **artemiskat**!_

_Happy reading!_

_Minor edits: 10-14-11.  
><em>

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Thirty-Eight: Of Wolves and Elves<strong>_

When Alistair woke the next morning, Elissa was already gone. He dressed quickly, and gathered up his things – breaking down their tent and ensuring that everything was prepped for travel so that they could move out as soon as the company was ready.

He found Elissa near the remnants of the previous night's fire, stowing the last of her own provisions away and munching on a strip of dried jerky. As he approached, he could make out the shadow of a bruise on her collarbone just beyond what the neckline of her armor was able to cover. On closer inspection, he could make out his own teeth marks.

"Oh, Maker... Elissa I… I **bit** you?" Alistair gasped, reaching over to brush his fingers against her skin and flinching internally when she pulled away from his touch.

"Don't worry, my cowl will cover it once I put it on." Elissa assured him, standing and tossing her pack over her shoulder – swallowing the last bite of jerky and reaching to grab her longsword. "No one else will know."

"That wasn't why I was… I mean to say, I wasn't asking because…" Alistair tried, following her around as she moved from area to area avoiding his insistent attempts to speak with her privately. "Elissa… can you stop for a moment, we really need to talk about…"

"No, Alistair – we **really** don't!" Elissa said, her tone harsh as she spun on him stopping him dead in his tracks – her features and tone softening when she saw the hurt in his eyes at her cold reaction to him, but she remained adamant in her request none the less. "I just… I **can't** do this right now – I don't have it in me. Yesterday was horrible, and last night… last night I barely slept, and now I have to go out there and find Flemeth and then, **somehow**, manage to kill her and I'm going to need what little mental focus I have left to do that... so **this,**" she waved her hand back and forth between them to illustrate her point, "this is going to have to wait. I'm sorry… I just can't."

She turned and walked away after that, and Alistair reluctantly let her – watching from a distance as she gathered up the rest of the group and moved them deeper into the Korcari Wilds on approach to Flemeth's Hut.

* * *

><p>The ramshackle shack was exactly as Elissa remembered it, barely hanging together and looking as though it had been randomly plopped down right in the middle of the most inhospitable section of swamp one could imagine.<p>

As they approached, Elissa could make out Flemeth's hobbled old silhouette through the mid-morning fog – though, on closer inspection – she noticed that rather than the old rags of a harmless peasant woman, the sorceress now wore the robes of a tower mage. She half-heartedly considered asking how she'd gotten her gnarled old fingers on those, but dismissed the idea just as quickly, realizing she probably didn't want to know.

"And so you return…" Flemeth chuckled, smiling at her as she moved into view – completely unsurprised to see her again. "It seems that lovely Morrigan has **finally** found someone willing to dance to her tune. Such enchanting music she plays, wouldn't you say?"

"I suppose you're going to tell me that I should dance to yours instead?" Elissa asked, watching the others react with surprise and suspicion to the suggestion that Morrigan might have misled them as to why she requested they visit with her mother.

Elissa had only spoken to Zevran about her suspicions that Morrigan's motivations for wishing Flemeth dead and the grimoire in her possession were not entirely based on her survival instincts.

"Why dance at all, my dear? Why not sing? I can see that your own tune has captivated a great many since last we met…" Flemeth's eyes wandered over the group gathered appreciatively. "So… what has Morrigan told you, hmm? What little plan has she hatched this time?"

"Morrigan told me nothing." Elissa half lied, watching Flemeth's eyes narrow as she tried to read her. "It was your own words that brought me here – read from the pages of the forgotten grimoire that I stumbled across during a visit to the Circle Tower on Lake Calenhad. In those pages I was horrified to discover how it is that you have maintained your unnaturally long life span."

"Were you now?" Flemeth chuckled, crossing her arms. "It is an old, old story… one that Flemeth has heard before, and even told… but that is not the **only** reason you have come seeking the riddles of an old witch… regardless of what you have told those who follow you…"

"You said things when last we met… things you could not have known…" Elissa said, intending to press her advantage and get the answers she desired but stopped by Flemeth's hand on her arm – placed there with a motion so quick that Elissa was shocked that a body so frail would still be capable of such a reaction.

"Come… there are things we must speak of that are best not revealed to others before their time…" the old witch whispered, leaning in close enough that Elissa could feel the gust of air from her words pass over the skin at the nape of her neck.

She bid the others stay put, noticing that Alistair was wise enough not even to bother arguing this time, and moved far enough away to remain in line of sight but out of hearing range.

"So… what knowledge is it that you have come here in search of?" Flemeth asked, eyes passing over the swamp as she waited for Elissa to speak. "What words can old Flemeth offer you before you pass your judgment on her soul?"

"Do you truly see the future?" Elissa asked, inspecting her closely as though she could read the truth of the woman in the wrinkles of her skin.

"At times I see the future… at times I read the past…" Flemeth replied, chuckling and turning her eyes back to the young Warden. "At times I can read the potential of a person if their spirit sings loudly enough – and **yours**, Warden, sings louder than any these ancient ears have ever heard. It is near deafening to those of us that can detect it. But you have heard this much from others… I can see it written on your face…"

"This _song_ of mine… what does it say?" Elissa asked, afraid of the answer but needing to know regardless.

"It speaks of the immeasurable well of strength and power inside you… and also of a deep and all encompassing darkness…" Flemeth explained, watching Elissa's face carefully and seeing that the woman was not surprised by her words. "You've been able to sense it already, to see it working its will in your world… you've watched as that same charisma that inspires people to flock to your cause, to follow you as a leader and a friend… to come to you as a lover… dashed those same souls on the rocks like a Siren's call sent out to hapless ships at sea."

"I would never intentionally harm my friends!" Elissa insisted, her words carefully chosen and her tone commanding – though the shaking of her voice betrayed that confidence and the notice of it flashed in Flemeth's eyes.

"Intentionally, perhaps not… but you **will** be the cause of immense suffering just as surely as you will inspire immeasurable joy." Flemeth insisted, smiling her knowing smile. "You've already begun to see it at work… this **darkness** within you reaching out its hungry little fingers… tainting everything it touches…"

"So I'm doomed to destroy everything I love? Is **that** what you're telling me? Is **that** the great truth you've been trying to pass along to me since the moment we met? Because if **that** is my destiny I think I'd rather pass… I'd rather just die now…" Elissa moaned, striding over to the edge of the swampy water and glaring out into the mists as she fought back a wave of tears.

"That would undoubtedly be easier… but women like us... we don't take the easy way out… Women like us fight until the very end – tooth and nail – and we shape the world around us even as we fall." Flemeth explained, moving back into her line of vision.

"Should I send him away?" Elissa asked suddenly, not knowing why she would say such a thing to this woman… this evil **thing** she had every intention of killing once she had all the answers she had come for.

"Who, your princeling?" Flemeth laughed, her cold crackling voice echoing out across the water. "I cannot tell you that."

"But you said I would taint him… if I haven't already…" Elissa replied, thinking about Alistair's out of character behavior in the shadows of their tent and turning her face to the woman – meeting her eyes and holding them steadily.

"Perhaps you shall… perhaps he shall resist… the future is a mutable landscape, Warden. All things are not certain." Flemeth explained with a shrug of her shoulders as she retreated back into the cyclical riddle speak she had adopted when first they met.

"I knew in a way… that it was too good to be true… that I wasn't supposed to have what we tried to build together, not really." Elissa whispered, wrapping her arms around herself in an uncomfortable hug and fighting down a shiver. "The things I've seen… things I've done... perhaps it's better to be alone."

"Oh, my dear, you really must learn not to jump to conclusions…" the witch laughed, holding at her sides gleefully. "I never said you were to be alone."

"You've just finished telling me that the very essence of my being will taint everything I touch and **now** you expect me to believe that someone out there can resist being destroyed by it? I can barely manage to survive it myself most days." Elissa snorted, rolling her eyes and quickly tiring of this circle dance.

"There is one man whose darkness rivals your own…" Flemeth began, watching the young Warden fall silent and turn to her with watchful eyes. "The very thing that will make you both so toxic to the world around you, will also link you to one another with bonds that can never be broken. You will either be his salvation or his destruction – and he will offer the same to you in equal measure."

"Nathaniel…" Elissa whispered, the name filling her mouth and piercing through her heart with a pain and regret she had almost managed to forget during the brief period of time she had allowed herself to be truly happy with Alistair.

"It is rare that two souls are bound together from the moment of their creation – but it **does** happen… and **when** it does, that connection is so profound and powerful that it shapes all life around it and even those of us with exceptional power of our own, find themselves trembling in the face of it." Flemeth said, her words awed and almost reverent as she stared down the young woman before her. "Surely you felt it, surely you **knew** that he was tied to you for all eternity."

"Hmph… yes, you see him here now, don't you?" Elissa laughed, shedding bitter tears as she fought to ignore the truth in the old woman's words… she **had** felt it, as had he, all those years ago when they were still children who had no idea what it was they were playing with. "For someone who was bound to me for all eternity he sure got away fast. Are you sure you aren't mistaken?"

"I am mistaken about a great many things." Flemeth laughed, shaking her head. "But about this, about **you**, absolutely not. The pathways that we travel are never as the crow flies, my dear. He may have left you once, he may even leave you again, but mark my words – you began this life sharing in his and you will leave it doing the same."

Elissa stared out into the distance, wanting to ignore the words, wishing she had never chosen to speak with the witch, wishing she could walk away not knowing and still believing in her heart of hearts that she would get her fairytale ending with Alistair.

"Now… I suspect you have what it is that **you** came for, regardless of the pretty pictures my Morrigan has etched into your mind – so, let us skip right to the ending, shall we?" Flemeth began, drawing Elissa's eyes to her once again. "Do you slay the old wretch as my daughter bids, or… does this part of your tale take a different turn?"

"I want the truth, Flemeth." Elissa said, the different facets of her personality warring against each other making the decision on what to do with the sorceress that much more difficult to manage.

"Ha! _The truth_ she says… as if it is a simple thing…" Flemeth cackled, smiling at her cryptically. "No, no… far better the lie. Far better the comfort of blankets and shadows and a mother's love. You do not want the truth, though you came here seeking it… I can see the weight of that **truth** bearing down on you even as you stand here struggling to deny it…" The old woman edged closer, and for a moment Elissa thought she might actually reach out to lay a comforting hand on her arm. "If it is my grimoire that Morrigan wishes to possess, then you may take it as a trophy and simply **tell** her I am slain."

"And if I let you live… what happens to you?" Elissa asked, knowing what happened to her. She would move on, raise **another** daughter… take **another** body as host.

"Why, I go… of course. Perhaps I surprise Morrigan one day… or I may simply watch." Flemeth smiled an even wider smile and Elissa shivered uncomfortably uncertain if the woman intended to watch her daughter, or to watch her. "It would be interesting to see what Morrigan does with this **freedom** she thinks she has found… and it would be enlightening to see how you choose to alter the world with your substantial gifts… would you give an old woman that? A final chance to see the very face of Thedas being reshaped into something new once more…"

"Morrigan would never believe you dead if you still lived." Elissa laughed bitterly, crossing her arms again. "She doesn't truly believe you can be killed at all."

"We believe what we want to believe." Flemeth shrugged, scratching her nose. "It is all we ever do."

"No… I'm sorry, Flemeth." Elissa sighed, suddenly feeling tired beyond her years. "I cannot betray Morrigan like that. Though I am certain she manipulated me to get her way, she is my friend and I owe her my life. I will do as she asks of me."

"Such a shame." Flemeth replied, her words hollow and tinged with regret. "This is a dance poor Flemeth knows well… I suppose we shall see if she remembers the steps…" She turned with a final smile and led Elissa back to where the others waited. "Come, my dear – you will **earn** what my daughter bids you take… you will have it no other way."

Elissa drew her swords and moved in, seeing her companions shift into a battle formation around her. Before they could strike, they were staggered by a rush of air and a great flash of light – and when Elissa again opened her eyes, it was no longer the old witch that stood before her but a great beast of a dragon – larger even than the false Andraste they had downed up on the mountainside.

The fight was not easy, and in the end it was Oghren that landed the blow that would drop the beast to the ground as most everyone else was too tired, injured (_or in Sten's case incapacitated_) to do so.

With her body failing, so too did her magic, and Elissa watched from the mud she'd landed in after a brutal toss by dragon tail as the witch flickered and folded back into herself until she lay on the ground in her fragile old shell once again.

She pulled herself up with Alistair's help, and staggered over to the sorceress – dropping to her knees on the ground beside her.

"It seems… as t-though… M-Morrigan… shall have… her prize… after all…" Flemeth sputtered, coughing up great gobs of blood with the choppy breaths it took to force out every word and reaching over to press a key into Elissa's hand.

"Did you know?" Elissa asked, watching momentary confusion pass over the old woman's face amidst the pain. "When you sent her with me, did you know that we would become friends and that because of that friendship I would return one day to bring your own death?"

"I saw… the p-potential…" Flemeth allowed, a cough wracking her body in convulsions so powerful Elissa was certain they would be the end of her – she'd almost have felt sorry for the woman if she didn't know **what** she really was. "N-now g-go… leave an o-old woman to d-die in p-peace."

Elissa laid Flemeth back onto the earth carefully, as one would a cherished grandmother. For all that she was, for all that she had done – Flemeth had never been anything but honest in her dealings with Elissa, even when she wrapped that truth in a riddle – and so Elissa felt she owed her some modicum of respect.

When the last breath passed from Flemeth's body, Elissa made her way back to the shack – using the key the witch had pressed into her palm to gain entry to both the structure itself and the chest inside where the grimoire that Morrigan sought was kept. She stowed the leather bound journal in her pack, and walked away from Flemeth's home for what she assumed would be the last time.

* * *

><p>Elissa was deathly silent as she pressed the company forward toward the Brecillian Forest, hoping to at least get them out of the swamps before nightfall. For a time, Alistair was concerned that she had lapsed into catatonia again much the way she had after they returned from retrieving the Sacred Ashes – but the longer he watched her, the more apparent it became that though she was reluctant to speak – she was still capable of it, and that allowed him a small feeling of relief.<p>

When they made camp for the night, he sought her out – hoping to clear the air between them finally and discover what it was that she and Flemeth had spoken of for so long before she'd morphed into a dragon and they'd been forced to kill her.

She sat by the fire, hair down – legs curled up beneath her as she stared at the reflection of whatever it was she saw in the amulet that her father's ghost had given her back in the gauntlet on the mountain. She looked so far away that Alistair hesitated to disturb her – but ultimately couldn't stand the idea of going to bed again with this tension hanging heavy in the air.

"A sovereign for your thoughts." Alistair said, smiling at her though it did not reach his eyes or his heart.

"That hardly seems fair since I'm the one holding the coin purse." Elissa sighed, allowing the amulet to drop back beneath the collar of her shirt and offering her own tired half-smile in return.

"I'd carry it if you let me." Alistair chuckled, sitting down across from her.

"You'd waste all our money on golem dolls." Elissa laughed, tucking her hair over her shoulder to keep it from falling in her face – the gesture making Alistair desperately want to kiss the bare skin it suddenly exposed.

"They aren't **dolls** they're **figurines**!" Alistair huffed indignantly, though he continued to smile. "And the ones I've got were all given to me as gifts… by **you**… it's not like I go around begging you for every one we see."

"I suppose you're right…" Elissa replied, leaning back against the rock behind her and staring at the starry sky.

"Listen… Elissa… about what happened the…" Alistair began, not really knowing how to broach the subject so just throwing it right out there.

"Alistair… I know I said we'd talk about it later, but… I'm still not ready…" Elissa interrupted, pressing a hand over her eyes and rubbing at her forehead as though it would ward off the headache building there.

"We **have** to talk about this… it's driving me crazy that things are so… **broken**… between us." Alistair begged, moving closer to her and reaching out for her hand. "I know it's eating at you too, I can see it."

"I have a great many things on my mind, the least of which is your little indiscretion in our bedroll…" Elissa muttered, realizing too late just how those words sounded and opening her eyes to see Alistair's wounded puppy look exactly as she had expected she would.

"The **least** of which?" Alistair said, brow furrowing as he dropped her hand. "So fixing this isn't important to you… you just want to **let** us be broken and wither away?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying… I just…" Elissa took in a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain without adding further injury but coming up empty handed. "There are so many things I'm dealing with right now, things that you don't even know about and might not even understand if you **did** know about them, things that go far **beyond** my own personal desires… and I'm a little overwhelmed…"

"Then for Andraste's sake **talk** to me, Elissa!" Alistair huffed, running his fingers through his hair and then dropping his hands hard to his sides. "I've told you before, you don't have to do this alone… I'm here for you, I'm here **with** you – but I can't read minds. I don't know how to help if you don't talk to me."

"Alistair I-I… I'm sorry…" Elissa said, standing up and dusting herself off. "I want to talk to you… and I will, in time… but for now, I just can't… I hope you can understand."

She smiled sadly at him and disappeared into the shadows of the tree line – turning back just outside of the range of the firelight to watch Alistair rise, dust himself off, and turn with hanging shoulders and haggard features back to their tent.

Elissa hated hurting him, but she had no idea how to approach him after what had happened between them – and was uncertain if she even should after the warning in Flemeth's words. The marks he'd made on her body had not yet faded, and the marks the witch had left on her soul likely never would.

She pulled out Reflection once more, flipping the cool metal around in the moonlight and seeking her father's guidance once more – but just as she'd seen every other time since speaking to the witch – it was Nathaniel's face that flickered there - and he offered her no relief.

She sighed, dropping the metal back down into her shirt and heading back to find Zevran so that they could start their watch.

* * *

><p>When Alistair woke the next morning the spot next to him was cold and untouched, affirming his belief that Elissa had never come to bed – at least, not in the tent that they shared. He watched the playful way that she bickered with the assassin as he emerged from the front flaps and wondered if his mistake had finally pushed her into the damnable elf's eager embrace.<p>

"Good, you're up." Elissa said, offering him a tight smile and tucking the apple that she'd just nicked right out of the assassin's hands behind her back where he couldn't quite reach it. "Once you've had time to dress and pack we'll get moving. I think if we press hard we can reach the last known Dalish camp before nightfall."

Alistair nodded, moving himself through the process of preparing to leave and trying to ignore the peals of laughter from Elissa as the elf tried to take back his breakfast.

Just as Elissa had wagered, they'd been able to make good enough time to reach the area that their information indicated was most likely to hold the main bulk of Ferelden's Dalish population – though it took them almost an hour of wandering about that area of the Brecillian Forest afterward to find the camp itself.

"Stop right there, outsider," said a fierce looking female elf, her face heavily tattooed and creased in anger as she trained her bow on Elissa's approaching form. "The Dalish have camped in this spot so I suggest you go elsewhere, and quickly."

"I have come seeking the Dalish, actually." Elissa said, holding up her hands to prove she was unarmed and indicating that her companions should do the same.

"I find that hard to believe," the woman snorted, eying them cautiously. "What business could we Dalish possibly have with a group like yours?"

"I will explain myself to your leader, and no one else." Elissa replied, hesitant to expose her origin even more than her face in these dangerous times. Though she sincerely doubted that the xenophobic Dalish would be in cahoots with Howe or Loghain, one could never be too careful.

"Seeing as you are **obviously** no simple trespasser, I will leave it to the keeper to decide the importance of your business," the elf replied, indicating with a quick motion of her bow and arrow that they were to precede her into the camp. "I suggest that you keep your hands to yourself, and remember that our arrows are trained on your hearts."

"Impossible to forget, **that** is…" Alistair muttered, silencing when one of the guards poked at his arm with the sharp tip of his arrow.

"Not… really… the **best** time for… humor… love…" Elissa hissed, covering her irritation with an unconvincing smile and watching Alistair visibly flinch at her misused term of endearment as she made her way to the clan's keeper.

"I see we have visitors…" the older bald man Elissa assumed to be the keeper said as she was brought to stand before him. "Who are these strangers, Mithra? I have precious little patience and even **less** time to spend on outsiders today."

"I understand." Mithra replied, smirking haughtily at Elissa as the keeper continued to glare in her direction. "But **this** one claims to have important business with our people."

"I see…" the man said, turning to Elissa with narrowed eyes. "Tell me, stranger, what business could you possibly have with us? We have our own issues to deal with, as you can see?"

"Yes… I noticed a bit of disarray, and I apologize for my sudden interruption…" Elissa said, pulling every ounce of the noble decorum that her mother had etched into her bones to the surface and hoping to will the hesitant elves to trust them. "But I come representing the Grey Wardens, so I hope that you can understand that my need is dire."

"You might have simply said so to begin with," the keeper sniffed, rolling his eyes and shooing away the guardsmen as he indicated it was safe for Elissa and her companions to relax. "Ma serannas, Mithra – you may return to your post."

"Ma nuvenin, Keeper." Mithra replied, glaring daggers at Elissa as she hesitantly walked away.

"I apologize for Mithra… she can be a bit overzealous in her duties." the Keeper offered, watching the way the two women stared each other down.

"No apology required." Elissa assured him with a smile, dropping back her cowl and hoping that the gesture would be interpreted as an effort to trust as she meant for it to be. "These are uncertain times within which we move – I myself am want to be cautious of those I encounter, and so I cannot question it in others – especially those who know such a lengthy history of betrayal from those of my race."

"An enlightened opinion…" the keeper noted, nodding and raising an eyebrow. "Allow me to introduce myself… I am Zathrian, the keeper of this clan – its guide, and preserver of ancient lore… and you are?"

"My name is Elissa." the young Warden replied, offering a quick curtsey and a polite inclination of her head toward the elder elf. "It is an honor to meet you."

"Manners! From a shemlen? Interesting…" Zathrian snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. "If you've come to spread news of the Blight, I have already sensed the corruption in the south so I'm afraid it is not news to me. I would have taken the clan north by now to avoid its spread if I had the ability, but sadly – as you see – I do not."

"Yes… it seems like the elves have had their own problems to deal with," Alistair noted humorlessly as he glanced around at the heavy presence of armed guards and injured bodies that Elissa had noticed on entry. "What are the odds of that…"

"I did not come bearing news alone, Keeper." Elissa assured him, glaring Alistair into silence once again as his interruptions were wearing on the elves' already thin patience. "I came to address the treaties between the Wardens and your clansmen obligating you to join with us against the darkspawn incursion."

"Ah yes, the treaties… I should have realized." Zathrian said, rubbing at his brow. "Unfortunately, we may not be able to live up to the promises we made…" he continued, pausing when Elissa made to argue her point, and urging her forward with a wave of his arm. "This will require some… explanation… please, follow me."

He escorted Elissa into the infirmary where at least seven elves lay suffering from some ailment that she could not identify.

"The clan came to the Brecillian Forest one month ago, as is our custom when we enter this part of Ferelden." Zathrian explained, looking off into the distant trees for a moment before turning back. "We are always wary of the natural dangers in the forest, but we did not expect that… werewolves… would be lying in wait for us… they launched an ambush, and though we drove them back – much damage was done. Many of these warriors lie dying even now."

"I'm sorry…" Elissa said, barely managing to stifle a chuckle of disbelief – she'd read the legends of werebeasts just as any child, but had never believed them to actually hold any truth. "Did you just say there are actual **werewolves**… here… in the forest?"

"There was a time in Ferelden's history that werebeasts roamed the lands in great numbers." Zathrian explained, unsurprised by her doubt – few knew the forests and what was real and legend better than the Dalish who lived among them. "Spirits possessed animals and turned them into horrific monsters… it was the humans who first waged war against them and destroyed the main bulk of the creatures, though – I see – that their tales of those days must have grown inaccurate with the passage of time."

"Werewolves are beasts not unlike the abominations you faced back in the tower." Wynne explained, watching the keeper nod in acceptance of her description. "The wolves are possessed and driven mad, unable to comprehend or control their own actions."

"Is there no way to help these men?" Elissa asked, looking to Wynne for support but she only shook her head sadly in response.

"The affliction is a curse that has run rampant in their blood. It brings great agony and then ultimately either death or transformation into something monstrous." Zathrian explained, reaching over and casting a soothing sleep spell on one of the suffering warriors. "The only thing that **could** help them would come from the source of the curse itself, and that… that would be no trivial task to retrieve."

"But you're going to ask us to get it anyway, right?" Alistair snorted, crossing his arms angrily and wondering when the list of requests would end.

"I would not ask such a thing of anyone…" Zathrian replied, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. "But it was you who came here seeking our aid, was it not?"

"We did, and I would do what I could to save your people from needless suffering, regardless of our treaty…" Elissa answered, pulling Zathrian's attention back onto her and hoping she could undo the damage Alistair's insensitive words had just done. "However, if I accomplish this task – I want assurances that I will have the aid that I have come here in search of. I am sorry to require such a thing in advance…"

"No, I understand, Warden – and you have my word, should you manage to aid us with our troubles then you shall have our support against the Blight just as our kin promised years ago." Zathrian assured her, reaching over and shaking her hand to bond their words. "Now… within the forest dwells a great wolf… we call him Witherfang…" Zathrian explained, pressing a hand to her back and guiding her to the camp's edge near the path they would need to take to find this wolf when they chose to move out. "It is within him that the curse originated, and through his blood that it is spread. If he is destroyed, and his heart is brought to me then perhaps I can destroy the curse… this task has proven too dangerous for us… the last hunters I sent out have not even returned."

"You said **perhaps**." Elissa said, looking to him expectantly. "You'll have to forgive me if I need to gauge how much I am willing to risk for a cure that may not even be possible."

"There is no guarantee that this will work, though I believe that it will." Zathrian insisted, respecting and understanding her hesitancy. "Either way… it is the only hope we have left."

"Then, I will find this Witherfang for you…" Elissa promised, going no further with her vow for she could read in this man that there was a great deal more to this story than he was willing to tell her.

"I would advise that you and your companions make camp here for the night and depart at first light rather than test your luck in the gathering shadows of evening… far more than werewolves lurk in the Brecillian Forest." Zathrian explained, turning to hold Elissa's eyes. "Where there is a history so full of carnage and murder, the Veil that separates us from the spirit realm becomes thin and things emerge to possess the living and the dead."

"Thank you for the warning, Keeper." Elissa chuckled, wondering if the man realized just how familiar with the creatures of the Fade she had become and if his knowledge of such things could come close to her own. "We will set up camp for the evening. I will speak with you again tomorrow before we move out."

"As you wish, Warden." Zathrian said, with a polite inclination of his head. "My apprentice, Lanaya, or our clan's storyteller, Sarel, can likely provide you with any additional information you seek. May the Creators guide you and watch over your journey."

Elissa nodded in reply, watching the man move gracefully back into the camp and guiding her company to a spot she felt was acceptable for them to camp in.

* * *

><p>Unable to sit for too long without feeling the constant burn of Alistair's eyes, Elissa kept herself mobile and busy – wandering the camp and getting what information she could from the elves who were willing to speak with her.<p>

"Andaran atish'an, stranger… I am Athras," an elf said, approaching her on the outskirts of the camp where she had stopped to think over the day's events. "I hope the others have not been too harsh in their treatment of you."

"They are somewhat caustic in their caution." Elissa replied, noting as he emerged from the shadow that he was very handsome though his eyes were heavily tinged with a sadness that she knew all too well. That look came only with loss and love – and she knew both better than most. "But it is something I understand, being somewhat predisposed to that myself at times."

"That is very generous of you." Athras smiled, coming to a stop beside her. "Most would assume we are unkind as a rule, and that is not the case… especially not to a…" he hesitated, nearly saying something but stopping and choosing other words instead. "Grey Warden. We have lost much over these last weeks, and it is easy to forget simple niceties at such at time." She watched his eyes darken further with the weight of his sadness, and found herself aching in response. "I understand that you will lead the search for the wolves in the forest come morning. I would like to have joined you… but Zathrian has… **forbidden** me."

"Forbidden you?" Elissa questioned, turning her body toward – fully intending to press the conversation as she sensed perhaps it might give her some insight into the secrets she had become certain, over the course of the evening, that the Keeper was hiding from her.

Even Zevran had been unable to turn up any proof of what the man was keeping from them and so she was desperate for some sort of insight to quell the niggling distrust bawling away in the back of her mind.

"We Dalish are banned from entering the forest now." Athras explained, sighing heavily. "I have… more cause than most to wish to disobey those orders… but I will not dishonor the Keeper in such a way."

"What draws you into the forest?" Elissa asked, realizing too late that it was not the Keeper's secret the man had been hiding but his own.

"That is a tale I'm not certain I should tell a stranger." Athras hesitated, smiling sadly at her and turning his eyes back into the trees. "I'm sure you have greater concerns than my problems… I can see them dimming the sparkle in your eyes…"

"I have many concerns, Athras." Elissa replied, laughing softly at his ability to read her so easily. "But, helping others often lightens that burden – so, if you're willing, I would like to hear about it. Please."

"It is… **odd**… to talk so freely with a stranger." Athras admitted, turning back to her with a slight smile. "But something about you is… **different**…"

"I assure you, I'm just a simple woman," Elissa said, holding up her hands to ward off any further discussion of her _differences_.

"I'm quite sure that isn't true…" Athras chuckled, but did not press the issue as he could sense she wished to discuss it no further. "Perhaps you can help me… my wife, Danyla, she fought the werewolves in the ambush – right at my side. She was a strong, willful woman – and I could not convince her to go to safety try as I might" he said, sharing a sad smile with Elissa who knew the type of woman he spoke of all too well. "She was injured so gravely that the curse spread like wildfire within her – there was nothing anyone could do…" She could see him fighting to control his pain and reached over to take his hand without thinking – watching his eyes go wide in surprise at such a familiar gesture before deciding to allow the comfort of it without question. "Zathrian says that she is dead, but he will not… he will not let me see the body. I am beginning to believe that she became a werewolf, and that he is keeping it from me so that I do not go chasing after her…"

"Were I in your position, I doubt I would let **anything** keep me from discovering the truth…" Elissa said, imagining herself in his shoes if something happened to Alistair, and knowing that no one would keep her from her goal.

"Going into the forest would likely draw another attack upon my clan." Athras said, shaking his head. "And though I am eaten alive by not knowing, I do not wish further harm upon my people." He sighed, looking down at where his hand linked with Elissa's. "If I could just… **know** if Danyla is alive… or what happened to her, then I know I could begin to heal – to be at peace."

"I will seek her out in the forest." Elissa assured him, reaching over with her other hand to cover his fully in her comforting grasp. "If there is an answer to be found, then you have my word that I will find it for you."

"I have an amulet made by our craftsman… I can…" Athras started, releasing her hands and reaching up to unclasp it from his neck.

"No, no… that isn't necessary." Elissa assured him, reaching over quickly to still his motion with a soft hand on his arm. "I do this of my own volition. I will not watch someone suffer the pain of a life lived not knowing, not when I may have the ability to prevent such a thing from happening. I know all too well how damaging that pain can be."

The two spoke no further, and eventually the elf excused himself leaving Elissa to her thoughts. She spent the following hours wandering about the camp – using her formidable ranger tendencies to help the master herder determine what was wrong with an ailing Halla, and even playing matchmaker for a couple of hesitant youths – before settling down at the main fire with several of the Dalish. Her own companions had remained at their own tents; hesitant to meander through the inhospitable crowd in the way that Elissa seemed determined to do.

She sat there, long after her companions and even the elves had gone to sleep, watching the dancing light of the flames and wondering if there would ever be a time when she did not feel so very tired and empty inside.


	39. Chapter 39: The Truth Behind the Lies

_**Disclaimer**__: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** Apologies to all for the delay in getting this new chapter up! Sometimes life has a way of getting in the way of the writing. In the end, I was quite pleased with how this chapter turned out - so I hope that its quality will make up for the long pause between updates!_

_As usual thanks to my readers, reviewers and followers! I love hearing from you all anytime so keep it coming!_

_Thanks also to my Lady Beta **artemiskat** for mucking through this beast of a chapter._

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Truth Behind the Lies<strong>_

Elissa seemed to be in even more of a rush than usual to get them up and moving the following morning, and Alistair knew it had more to do with him than she was willing to admit. For the second night in a row, she had not come to the tent that they shared. He had emerged to search for her at one point – fearing that he would find her with the assassin or perhaps even the silver-haired elf with whom she had spent a good portion of the evening deep in conversation. He had been relieved that when he finally did find her, it was sitting alone, gazing into the reflection of her amulet beside the camp fire – but that relief dissipated quickly when he caught a glimpse of her face. Exhaustion, sorrow, and fear haunted her features in the firelight, making her look years beyond her actual age. He gave momentary thought to attempting to speak with her again, to offer his shoulders in an attempt to share her burdens once again - but his mind flickered back to her earlier request, and so he slunk back to their tent and drifted back into a fitful sleep - cold and alone.

As they fought wave after wave of blighted creatures, enormous bears, and the werewolves of which the Dalish had spoken – Alistair vowed that on this day they would clear the air between them one way or another. Even if she chose not to forgive him, even if pressing her to address the things that weighed so heavily on her mind ended things between them for good – he knew they could not continue in this manner, else they would both be lost to exhaustion and grief.

Elissa moved in silence through the forest, speaking only to relay orders or discuss tracking and pathing with Zevran who remained at her side while she scouted ahead of the party, as had become their usual routine, .

The group had been tracking a specific set of werewolves for almost an hour now, and it appeared that they had paused on a small island connected by a trio of short bridges, and were waiting for them to approach.

"The watch-wolves have spoken truly, my brothers and sisters," the largest of the wolves growled, his reddish fur tossing lazily in the light breeze. "The Dalish have sent a hunting party to put us in our place, led by a… **human**… of all things." his golden eyes looked her over before locking onto her green, "What bitter irony."

"You have an excellent grasp of language…" Elissa noted, edging closer cautiously – watching the flash of arrogance jump to life in the creature's eyes. "I was lead to believe that werewolves were savage beasts incapable of speaking. None of the others we have encountered have even tried to speak before attacking."

"We are beasts… but we are sentient… no longer simple and mindless. Let that thought chill your spine." the red wolf replied, watching to see if she reacted with the fear he expected – noting with a modicum of respect and caution that she did not. "I am Swiftrunner. I lead my cursed brothers and sisters, in much the same way you lead yours." He passed his intelligent eyes over the rest of Elissa's companions as they began to filter in b in behind her. "Turn back now. Return to the Dalish and tell them you have failed…" he growled, refocusing his attention back onto Elissa. "Tell them we will gladly watch them suffer them curse we have born the weight of for too long. We will **watch** them pay."

"May we not speak further?" Elissa asked, partially because she had no desire to continue killing them before she could discern the full story behind their disdain for the elves – partially because she was lost in a girlish fascination of actually **speaking** to a werewolf, a mythical beast she had not believed to actually exist until a mere handful of hours before this moment. "I mean you no harm unless given a reason. I have killed your brethren because they attacked me. Given the chance, I much prefer a more civilized way of settling our differences."

"Was it not Zathrian who sent you?" Swiftrunner asked, his eyes narrowing – his words becoming more growl than language at the fury that the keeper's name brought to life in him. "He wishes only our destruction, never to talk."

"You speak his name as though you know him." Elissa noted, watching the red wolf's eyes go wide again at her ability to read him. "Yet he did not give me the impression there was a personal tie between you."

"We have never met, he and I." Swiftrunner answered, and Elissa could see the truth in his words – though she could also read there was much more he held back. "He would not have survived the experience, I swear it."

"Why, exactly?" Elissa asked, daring to move closer to the bulky creature – to reach out her hand with the intention of touching him. "Why do you hate him so much?"

"You know nothing, do you?" Swiftrunner growled, recoiling from her tentative fingers before they could find purchase on the fur of his arm. "Nothing of us, and even less of those you… **serve**. You are a fool, and we are **done** talking!" He turned then, drawing his pack into formation behind him. "Run from the forest while you can. Run to the Dalish and tell them they are doomed."

"I don't want to fight with you, Swiftrunner." Elissa said, using his name – forcing him to acknowledge whatever humanity was left inside him. "But neither can I retreat, surely you see that."

"I do not wish to fight you either…" the red wolf reluctantly admitted, and Elissa saw a flash of something in his golden eyes that ran an electric chill down her spine. "But I cannot trust you." He moved off into the woods then, drawing his pack with him. "Come, brothers and sisters… let us retreat. The forest has eyes of its own and it will deal with the intruders as it always has."

"What did you make of that?" Elissa asked, unwillingly pulling her eyes away from the retreating forms of the wolf pack as they disappeared into the forest.

"There is a great deal more to this tale than the keeper has lead us to believe" Zevran answered, validating Elissa's concerns in a way that only another rogue could.

"Agreed" Elissa replied, signaling the others to move out "Let us see if we can track him further, perhaps he will be willing to converse with us again."

* * *

><p>Further movement into the forest found them dealing with several bands of darkspawn and even some living trees in addition to the usual blighted animals and werewolves. Elissa pressed on regardless of what they faced, winding them deeper and deeper into the wood until they came across a large, solid wall of white fog that spread out in what appeared to be a wall, preventing them from progressing any further.<p>

"It's too thick." Elissa said, re-emerging for the fourth time after being turned around and sent back out of the bank at the exact point where they'd initially entered. "I can't see anything inside of it. There must be some sort of enchantment at work here. Something keeping us from making further progress. We're stuck until we figure out what it is and how to break it."

"I never thought I'd say this… **ever**…" Alistair muttered, coming to a stop beside Elissa and trying not to be affected by the cool eyes of indifference with which she regarded him. "But I wish Morrigan were here…"

"You **do** realize that I'm a mage, Alistair, do you not?" Wynne asked with a sigh, crossing her arms and inspecting him critically.

"The healing **might** have clued me in." Alistair retorted in irritation, rubbing at his brow. "I wasn't trying to slight you, Wynne; it's just that Morrigan is the one who usually susses out this sort of thing for us… I didn't think about you having an even deeper pool of knowledge from which to puzzle such things."

"Do you know what this is, Wynne?" Elissa asked, reaching out to touch the fog and watching the tendrils of it swirl restlessly at her fingertips.

"This specifically, no… but I have read of similar gateway barriers. Usually they are found within very old tracts of forest." Wynne explained, watching Elissa try to absorb what she was saying as she did with all knowledge offered to her. "I remember passing an exceptionally old oak grove on our way here, and now that we've encountered several sentient trees – I wonder if one of the plants growing there wasn't more than it seemed at the time."

"So you think we're looking for a tree spirit of some sort?" Elissa asked, waiting for Wynne to direct them back to the grove of which she had spoken, as she had no clear memory of it.

"Perhaps. It makes sense that if the werewolves have gained some sort of rational thought in this place – that the other creatures must have as well." Wynne replied, leading them back along the paths they had traveled to find the collection of ancient trees.

* * *

><p>The first few trees in the grove either could not speak, or chose not to – and so Elissa and her companions had been forced to cut them down or light them on fire and <strong>then<strong> cut them down, as was quickly becoming the most effective solution to the increasingly frequent plant attacks. The further into the grove they moved, the more cross Elissa became – realizing that this was most likely a colossal waste of time and that they were now injured, tired, and no closer to penetrating the fog than they had been on starting this endeavor. She was just about to give up and turn them around when the largest and most ancient of the trees suddenly unfolded in front of her and began to speak.

"What manner of beast be thee, that torches forests and breaks the trees?" the plant inquired, and Elissa's eyes went wide watching tiny sparks light within what she assumed to be its face. "This elder tree would hear you speak to know if vengeance it should seek."

Its voice sounded like the movement of wind through dry leaves, and Elissa stood silently in awe of it as it moved closer to inspect her with its tiny watchful eyes.

"I am a h-human." Elissa replied, her words sounding stilted and childlike even to her own ears. "I-I'm sorry… that sounded silly… I've simply, well, I never even knew such a thing as you existed much less believed I would ever be standing here speaking to one."

"Ahhh yes… now I remember your kind." the tree chuckled, its laughter like the hollow tinkle of wooden chimes. "So brief in life and all but blind to the things around you and the peril you cause. So many lives you take, and such chaos is sown within thy wake," it continued, and Elissa felt shame growing with every word - suddenly wishing she'd made more of an effort not to harm the trees they'd down on their journey through the forest even though they had attacked her first. "But, allow me a moment to welcome thee. I am called the Grand Oak, or sometimes – the Elder Tree."

"This world is so full of marvelous, unexpected gifts…" Elissa said, drifting closer to it and smiling softly. "Every time I think I've found the end of things that will surprise me, I come across something else that even in my wildest childhood dreams I would never have thought possible."

Elissa spared as much time as she could to converse with the ancient creature, eager to decipher what wisdom she could from its riddles – but eventually forced to put them in motion toward the completion of their task once again.

The tree told them that he could remove the barrier for them if they returned his acorn, which had been stolen by a Hermit who had made camp in a distant corner of the forest. Unable to proceed any further without his help, they were forced to retreat back once again and locate the man.

* * *

><p>Half way down the path to the Hermit's camp, they stumbled across a group of werewolves gathered around – and from Elissa's perspective harassing – a lone wolf, much smaller than the rest, who was huddled on the ground writing in pain. She chased the tormentors away, brandishing her swords in warning – and moved over to inspect the one that curled in the dirt at the roots of a nearby tree.<p>

"T-thank you… human…" the beast grumbled, and Elissa thought that she could hear the lilting tones of a woman's voice beneath the pained rumblings of the beast. "Please… I beg you for a moment more of your time to listen to my plea…"

"Have the others hurt you?" Elissa asked, kneeling at the wolf's side and inching close enough to attempt to inspect it for wounds in spite of both Alistair and Wynne's warnings against the action.

"They… I… I am cursed!" the creature whined, flinching away from Elissa's prodding fingers. "T-turned into this creature… the curse, it burns in me… I… fled into the forest when I felt the change. The werewolves tried to take me in but… I had to return…" In her mind something started to fall into place and Elissa remembered Athras and the story of his missing wife. "I had to..."

"I urge you to be cautions, Elissa!" Alistair insisted when she reached forward, pulling the wolf's body into her arms and offering what comfort she could. "The others may have laid a trap for us with this… creature… as the bait. We can't be too careful."

"I… am… not a trap," the wolf insisted, trying but failing to lift its head enough to meet Alistair's eyes. "I was… once… an elf. Dalish… do you know my clan?"

"It was your keeper, Zathrian, who sent us here." Elissa replied, stroking the soft fur of her head.

"The keeper… then you, you seek Witherfang…" the wolf noted, and Elissa could read something in those words – the same thing she'd sensed previously when speaking to Swiftrunner - she looked up, catching Zevran's eyes and watching him nod in reply.

"I do." Elissa answered, nodding softly. "Have you seen him?"

"I have… but things are not what they seem," the wolf explained, meeting Elissa's eyes before convulsing in pain once again – the tremors shaking both their bodies. "There is no time… you… must listen…" Elissa waited for the words she knew would come, her heart aching for the news she would be forced to report once the wolf verified what she already knew to be true. "My husband… he is called Athras. Please… you must… bring him a message."

"There is death in her eyes." Sten said, drawing Elissa's eyes to his own – and watching the sorrow cloud her face. "It will not be long now."

"The scarf… there…" the wolf pointed to the nearby dirt and Elissa inclined her head to indicate Alistair should retrieve it. "Return it to him. Tell him I love him. Tell him… I am dead and with the gods…"

"I spoke to Athras." Elissa said, watching the wolf's eyes cloud with emotion and Alistair's face suddenly register why this interaction had been so important to her - and what she had actually spent her evening speaking to the silver-haired elf about. "He worries about you."

"I want him to be at peace… he is a good man." Danyla huffed, her body contorting with pain and sadness. "Do not let him suffer for me…" She stiffened, clutching at Elissa's arms and wailing mournfully. "The pain! The curse is a fire in my blood! Please… I can take it no longer… end it for me. I beg of you."

"You have to hold on a little longer." Elissa pleaded, stroking at her furry head – ignoring the claws that dug into the flesh of her arms even through her leather armor. "Zathrian believes that he can remove the curse if I complete my task. You could still be healed. You could return to Athras and spare him this pain."

"I cannot bear it… I will not last…" Danyla begged, writhing in Elissa's arms. "It hurts! By the Gods it hurts! You must end it!"

Elissa turned her face away, fighting down the tears that welled in her eyes with the knowledge of what she must do. Sensing her suffering, and knowing that she could not reach her own dagger the way that she crouched in the dirt holding the creature – Sten retrieved his own and offered it to her.

She took the blade, and stroked the wolf's fur – whispering the calming words of a mother to her sick child as she drew back her head and revealed her throat. She held Danyla's eyes as she slid the blade across, feeling the warm flow of blood gushing out over her fingers and splashing against her legs as it made its way down into the dirt beneath them.

When the last twitching has ceased, she eased the body to the ground and rose slowly – wiping Sten's blade clean and returning it to him in silence. With bloody hands she retrieved the scarf from Alistair, tucking it into her pack and shifting into motion toward the Hermit's camp.

* * *

><p>"Well, here's the camp but where's the Hermit?" Alistair asked, rooting around the campsite for any sign of the man.<p>

"I've no idea." Elissa replied, finding no traceable signs of the man anywhere around though the dirt was soft and wet and should have taken them well.

She rooted around at the base of a large tree stump, finding evidence that the man must sleep there despite the presence of a large tent in his living area.

"Hold on, you!" a voice called, and Elissa watched as a dirty gangly man with wild hair and eyes dropped from the branches of the trees above them. "That's private property! That's an old man's home that is!" he screeched, and Elissa backed away holding her hands up so that he could see she had taken nothing. "Not a werewolf, and not a spirit even… what are the woods coming to?"

"Are you the Hermit who took the Grand Oak's acorn?" Elissa asked, allowing him to sniff around her like a dog trying to discern what she was.

"Mayhap I am, mayhap I'm not," the man replied, eyes narrowing on her. "Have you come to take it back? Oh, what fun! But we're getting ahead of ourselves already…" He came to a stop in front of her, bouncing lightly on the heels of his feet in excitement. "Ask a question and you'll get a question, give an answer and you'll receive the same. My, but I do love to trade!"

"You… want me to answer a question?" Elissa asked, trying to figure out what this strange man was asking of her.

"Wouldn't I have to ask you a question first?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow at her and crossing his arms.

"Isn't **that** a question?" Elissa said, shaking her head in confusion.

"Would you know a question if it was asked?" he replied, chuckling.

"I should certainly hope so…" Elissa muttered, starting to feel crazy herself in the circles he was talking.

"**NO!** That is not a question!" the Hermit yelled, stomping forward to shake a finger in her face – forcing Elissa to hold a hand up to still her advancing and now armed companions. "It is an answer, and not an answer to any question that I asked. Have you no sense for the rules?"

"Be careful, Elissa… this is no ordinary man." Wynne cautioned, and Elissa allowed her eyes to wander away for just a second to read the meaning behind those words. "This is a mage… driven mad, perhaps – but no less powerful."

"No fair bringing mages to a guessing game!" the Hermit tsked, tottering away and glaring at Wynne. "Will you play by the rules, or not?"

"Would you like to ask me a question?" Elissa said, hoping she'd guessed correctly what was next in the pattern required to communicate with the man.

"May I? Oh, yes, I think that I might," the Hermit said, coming to a still in front of her again. "Now… what shall be the first? Oh, here we go. What is your name?"

"You may call me, Elissa," she replied, knowing there was nothing to fear in revealing her true name to the crazy mage in the middle of the forest.

"A-ha! So you claim!" the Hermit said, narrowing his eyes again. "They sent you, didn't they? But you're too tricky and you're trying to fool me…" He leaned in, pressing closer to her and whispering, "Well, I am onto you! Just so you know."

"Who are you?" Elissa asked, realizing too late that she'd used up her question and should have simply asked for the acorn and been done with this.

"Who am I? Why do you want to know?" the Hermit asked, pacing about restlessly. "Did **they** send you? Did **they** tell you to ask?"

"That's an awful lot of questions." Elissa replied, smirking to herself in silent victory. "You'd better have a lot of answers."

"Damnation!" the Hermit muttered, stomping angrily in the muck. "Caught by my own rules! Did they tell you to pretend to be an innocent stranger with a head full of fluff and nonsense?" he asked, pressing in closer to her again. "I'm trickier than I look. I survive out here alone. The trees, they leave me alone. **They** will never find me. I have won!"

"I found you." Elissa noted, watching his eyes narrow angrily.

"So you did, but I'm watching you…" he said with malice. "If **they** sent you, I'll know. What is your relationship with your father?"

"My father is dead." Elissa said, flinching visibly at the mention of the sensitive subject.

"Interesting… most interesting," the Hermit said, pacing around her and smiling gleefully at her discomfort. "I knew I would trip you up sooner or later. Have you ever been in love?"

"Yes…" Elissa responded immediately, her eyes seeking out and finding Alistair of their own accord – forcing her to swallow uncomfortably as the air grew thick with things unsaid. "But that question was asked out of turn, and so I expect mine to be answered thoroughly as punishment." The Hermit grumbled and stomped around, but she knew he would follow his rules. "Do you have the Grand Oak's acorn?"

"As a matter of fact, yes… I do have that silly tree's acorn!" the Hermit snipped, producing it from his pocket with a flourish. "If you want it, you'll have to trade me for it."

"I have a book on Elven History." Elissa said, digging around in her pack. "And a silver ring – you may have either in exchange for the acorn. Or both if you'd prefer."

"I had a ring like that once," the man said, drifting close enough to see it then snatching it out of her palm and tossing the acorn to her as he moved away. "Now, you've got what you want and I'm all out of questions and answers so just you run along."

"Gladly…" Elissa sighed, tucking the acorn into her pack and shuffling off to find the Grand Oak once again.

* * *

><p>An hour or two later they'd managed to find the oak, retrieve the item which would allow them to traverse the fog safely, and return to the spot which would finally allow them to access the portion of the forest they needed to continue tracking Witherfang.<p>

Elissa was not surprised when they emerged from the fog and found Swiftrunner and his pack waiting for them directly on the other side.

"The forest has not been vigilant enough… still, you come… I could smell you through the fog" Swiftrunner growled, edging closer to her and continuing to snuff at the air as though he could intimidate her in such a manner. "You are stronger and smarter than I have anticipated. The Dalish chose well… but you do not belong here, outsider. Leave this place!"

"Why won't you let me even try to settle this dispute?" Elissa asked, watching the red wolf stretch out to its full height and tower above her. This had once been a very large man. "What do you gain from these struggles? Surely a peace could only benefit both sides."

"You are sent by the traitorous Dalish to **kill** Witherfang." Swiftrunner insisted, bringing his muzzle inches from Elissa's face and almost grinning when she did not recoil in response. "I will not stand by idly and allow that to happen."

"I have no intention of harming Witherfang unless I am presented with no other options." Elissa assured the wolf, seeing the desire to believe her warring with his anger within his golden eyes. "I simply want to talk."

"I do not believe you." Swiftrunner insisted, backing away and dropping her eyes – and in that instant, Elissa knew he was lying. "I will not risk believing you. You are an intruder in our home. You come to kill as all your kind do. We have learned this lesson well."

Before Elissa could open her mouth to say anything more, his pack bore down upon her – setting her companions into motion and forcing her to draw her own weapons and defend herself.

Elissa dipped and dodged, avoiding the attacks of the two wolves Swiftrunner had allowed to fill the space between them and following in his wake. As fast as he was, Elissa's speed kept her right at his heels and eventually he was forced to turn and face her when it became apparent that he would never manage to outrun her.

"You run like the wolves." Swiftrunner growled, swiping at her and watching her tumble to the side to avoid the half-hearted swipe of his claws. "And you smell… different… What are you?"

"I am a Grey Warden." Elissa replied, swiping forward with her longswords as she pushed to her feet – keeping him far enough out of her range that she could be comfortable that he was unable to reach her as well.

"No… that's not it…" the wolf muttered, crouching low and circling back behind her – watching her spin and track him with her sparkling green eyes. "I have encountered your kind before and they did not smell like you."

"They were not like me." Elissa answered cryptically, seeing the beast relax his guard slightly as he tried to puzzle out the riddle of her words and seizing that opportunity to lunge at him with the intent of pinning him to the ground long enough to force him to listen to her.

But she never made contact with his body before being barreled over by a swift white puff of fur. Her head made contact with the ground hard enough to bring stars to her eyes, and as she shook it off she saw Swiftrunner and the distinctive white wolf she knew from descriptions to be Witherfang speed off into the ruins.

"Did he bite you?" Alistair asked, running his hands over her in a panic as the rest of her companions finally caught up to her.

"No, I'm fine…" Elissa assured him, holding his eyes long enough for him to believe her and then backing out of the range of his touch. "He didn't really want to fight me or else he could have on a number of occasions. What I can tell you is that he and Witherfang took off into those ruins just ahead, and that if we want to end this - that is where we must go."

"Witherfang? So you saw it?" Alistair said, following her eyes to the crumbling remains of a temple set deep at the back of the forest.

"I saw a large white wolf that seemed very intent on me not striking down its general." Elissa said, shaking off the last of her injury and moving forward – watching another large pack of wolves shout out an alarm and disappear into the ruins themselves. "I'm going to assume that's the one we're looking for, or - at the very least - it will lead us to him."

* * *

><p>They entered the ruins so hot on the wolves' heels, that they saw the passage they chose to move deeper into and followed behind them with ease. When they reached the door and found it barred from within, Elissa laughed ruefully – realizing how silly it was to think it would be that easy even this one time.<p>

She sighed in annoyance, realizing that they were going to have to circle around in order to find a path that would bring them out on the other side of that door – or else find a wolf that would allow them inside, which seemed highly improbable.

"These ruins don't appear to be Tevinter." Alistair said, falling into pace beside her despite her obvious discomfort at this action. It saddened him to think that only a few short days ago she would have been thrilled to have his company.

"No, they're much, much older." Elissa replied, trying to keep her words neutral and her voice calm in spite of the anxiety welling up within her. "The characters I've seen carved into the stone are Dalish if I remember my history correctly. I think these may be elven ruins."

"I wonder if the Dalish know they're here…" Alistair pondered, looking thoughtfully at the numerous artifacts that lined the halls and rooms through which they were now passing.

"I would be surprised if they didn't, they've spent years in these woods – they'd have to know every inch of them." Elissa answered, furrowing her brow. "Which raises the question, why did their keeper not think it important to mention they were here?"

"You think he's holding something back?" Alistair questioned, watching her swing her eyes back to his with a hesitation it hurt to see.

"I think that none of this feels right." Elissa replied, turning her eyes away just as quickly and leaving him to wonder what she was referring to exactly.

"Elissa, we **have** to talk…" Alistair tried again, watching her close her eyes and press her fingers against them in frustration.

"And you think **now** is the best time to do that?" Elissa asked, inching around a corner blades first and almost hoping there was something waiting for them just so she wouldn't have discuss this any further.

"Probably not, but you haven't given me any other opportunities so I'm taking what I can get." Alistair responded, refusing to let it go this time.

"Fine." Elissa said, coming to a stop and turning to him. "I promise, if we get out of here and back to the camp tonight, I will sit and we will talk through things as much as you like. But for now, can we please just focus on what we need to do? I don't fancy being mauled by werewolves because I lost focus chatting with you."

"Agreed, but if you dodge me again, Elissa…" Alistair started, and she could see the warning in his eyes.

He was dangerously close to just giving up on them all together – and regardless of Flemeth's warnings, Elissa realized that she was not ready to do that just yet.

"You have my word." Elissa assured him, moving off to do what they'd come to do when he nodded and backed off in reply.

* * *

><p>Sometime later, after fighting through scores of giant spiders, werewolves, undead and even a particularly nasty dragon - the company finally emerged on the other side of the barred door they had encountered upon entering the ruins. There, the werewolf who had called out the initial warning when they had breached the gates of the temple stopped them.<p>

"Stop, brothers and sisters!" the wolf said, calming the pack of growling beasts pacing around behind him. "Be at ease. We do not wish any more of our kind hurt." It moved forward, seeking Elissa out where she stood near the middle of her own group. "I ask you, outsider; are you willing to parley?"

"We're talking right now, aren't we?" Elissa panted, sheathing one but not both of her blades as a show of good faith and wiping a dirty swath across her sweaty brow with the back of her hand. "So… **talk**."

"Not with me," the wolf said, with a quick shake of its great head. "I have been sent to you on behalf of Swiftrunner and The Lady," it explained, watching her carefully. "She believes you may not be aware of everything you should be. She assures me you will come to no harm, provided your willingness to parley in peace is an honest one."

"How do I know I won't be walking into another ambush?" Elissa asked, narrowing her eyes as she thought about the _talk_ Swiftrunner had attempted to have before setting his pack on them.

"What would be the point?" the wolf growled, shrugging its shoulders. "You have already proven your superior strength. We have no desire to anger you further."

"Alright. I accept." Elissa replied, sheathing her remaining sword and indicating that the rest of her companions should do the same. "Take me to this... **Lady**."

"Follow me," the wolf said, narrowing its eyes at her one last time. "But I warn you… if you break your promise and harm her, I will come back from the Fade itself to see you pay."

"And I warn **you**, if you betray your word and attack myself or my companions unprovoked – I will gladly send you to the Fade so that you can test those abilities." Elissa replied, holding his glare long enough to communicate that she meant every word as much as he had his own.

When they both reached as much of an understanding as they were ever likely to, the party moved forward into the large rear chamber where the majority of the remaining wolves remained.

At the rear of the group, Elissa could see Swiftrunner, standing tall above the other wolves at the side of a mostly naked nymph like creature. It was not human, that much she could discern. Other than that, she had no idea what it was she now stood facing.

"I bid you welcome, mortal," the creature said, a smile gracing her lovely face though no emotion showed in the dark pools of her eyes. "I am the Lady of the Forest."

"I must admit, I was expecting another werewolf." Elissa said, allowing her eyes to pass over to Swiftrunner briefly before turning her attention back to the Lady.

"Be careful how much you let her speak, Lady." Swiftrunner insisted, his golden eyes watchful of Elissa's every move. "She will speak her pretty words from her pretty mouth and then use them to betray you, I have seen it before. We must attack now!"

"Hush, Swiftrunner," the Lady said, reaching out her limb-like arms to stroke at his arm. "Your urge for battle has so far only resulted in the deaths of the very ones you are trying to save. Is this what you want?"

"No, my Lady," the great red wolf replied, calming and hanging his head, ashamed. "Anything but that."

"Then the time has come to speak with this outsider. To set aside our rage," the Lady encouraged, and Elissa found herself almost jealous of the calming effect she was having on the red wolf – though she could not rationalize such a ridiculous emotion. "I apologize on Swiftrunner's behalf. He struggles with his nature."

"As do we all, Lady." Elissa replied, and she watched Swiftrunner's eyes flicker quickly back to hers – reading the truth in her words with curious eyes.

"More honest words were never spoken," the Lady replied, and Elissa watched her recognize the things that were passing between her general and this new woman standing before her with a smile. "However, few could claim the same as these creatures. Their very nature is a curse that has been forced upon them, not chosen." Her words had the effect the Lady desired, and she watched both Elissa and Swiftrunner's eyes swing back to her at the revelation of the newcomer's secret. "No doubt you have questions, mortal. There are things Zathrian has not told you."

"I know there is much he is holding back." Elissa answered, avoiding Swiftrunner's inquisitive gaze – uncertain she could meet it without revealing more than she wanted him to know. "But I have no idea what that information might be, nor why he would choose to withhold it if he knew it could help us to find the cure and save his people."

"It was Zathrian himself who created the curse that these creatures suffer, the same curse that his own people now suffer," the Lady explained, and though Elissa was genuinely surprised that he had created it – she was not surprised that he was far more involved with its origin than he had let on.

"His children…" Swiftrunner began, and Elissa turned her eyes to him immediately – forgetting her earlier reluctance to do so. "The humans tortured the boy… killed him. The girl they raped and left for dead." His eyes were full of many things – shame, revulsion, and anger. "The Dalish recovered her, but she learned later she was with child and she took her own life."

"And Zathrian cursed them in retribution, I take it?" Elissa asked, watching the great red wolf pace closer to her as he spoke but making no motion to move away from him.

"Zathrian came to this very ruin and summoned a terrible spirit, binding it to the body of an ancient white wolf." Swiftrunner continued, drifting ever closer to Elissa who stood silent and unflinching at his inspection. "And so Witherfang came to be."

"They were driven into the forest, and eventually the human tribe left for good," the Lady continued, her watchful eyes narrowed on the pair before her – human and wolf – both reluctant to separate as they sized each other up. "Their cursed brethren remained here, pitiful and mindless animals."

"Until I found you, my Lady." Swiftrunner said, pulling away from his vigil by Elissa's and returning to stand at the Lady's side. "You gave me peace."

"I showed Swiftrunner that there was another side to his bestial nature," the Lady cooed, reaching over to stroke at his fur again and noting with a smile that Elissa responded to this with an involuntary glare – the beast inside her having noted the strength within him and attached to it even if the rest of her had not yet recognized it happening. "I soothed his rage, and his humanity emerged. Then, he brought others to me."

"If you are so interested in soothing his rage, then why bid him to attack the Dalish?" Elissa asked, irritated with this _Lady_ and the hold she had over the great red wolf, though her logical mind told her how irrational that was. "For revenge?"

"I suppose it began that way," the Lady shrugged, stilling her fingers against the wolveswolf's arm and chuckling in amusement at the other woman's emotion. "But then I realized, we really only wished to end the curse. We have sent word to Zathrian's landships every time they pass this way, but he will not respond to them. This time, we refused to be denied."

"We spread the curse to his people, so that he must end the curse to save them." Swiftrunner explained, something in his eyes reaching out to Elissa – willing her to understand.

"Please, mortal… you must go to him… bring him here," the Lady intoned, watching Swiftrunner communicate a silent plea of his own – one she was certain would be more effective in this case than any words she could manage. "If he sees these creatures… hears their plight, surely he will agree to end this curse. What happened to his family was horrible, but it was a crime committed centuries ago by those long dead. It is not right that these should continue to suffer for things they did not do and cannot change."

"I will bring Zathrian." Elissa said, her words sounding almost dreamlike as she held the look passing between herself and Swiftrunner a moment longer before shaking her head and righting herself once again.

"Tell him that if he refuses this time, I will make sure that Witherfang is never found – and thus, he will never cure his clan," the Lady insisted, watching as Elissa turned herself and her company to the now unbarred door leading to the upper ruins.

* * *

><p>Alistair had watched the entire conversation from the background, content to give Elissa the space she required to maintain focus and complete their task – but when he saw the look on her face as she marched past him and up the stairs into the entry level, he knew he could remain silent no longer.<p>

"Elissa, what are you planning?" he asked, taking two steps at a time and rushing past their companions in an effort to reach her before she opened the door at the top.

"I haven't decided yet," she replied, reaching for the door without even meeting his eyes.

"Bullshit!" Alistair spat, reaching out and laying a hand on her arm – trying not to flinch as she spun on him with fury in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Elissa, but I've traveled with you for long enough now to know that you don't walk into anything without a plan so that isn't going to work on me."

"Alright." Elissa said, her voice low with the effort it was taking her to maintain her calm façade atop her rising anger. "How about this then? I am going to make every possible effort to undo what has been done to those poor creatures," she said, holding his eyes steadily. "What I have to do in order to reach that goal, will depend on how forthcoming keeper Zathrian chooses to be."

"The werewolves are dangerous, Elissa, and no innocents in this tragedy." Alistair tried, dipping in to hold her eyes again when she turned away. "I'm not sure that throwing ourselves in with them is any better than standing with the Dalish. Besides, we came here seeking to garner allies against the Blight and we must leave with them. If we ally ourselves with this… **Lady**… and her beasts, the elves may refuse to honor their treaty, and we cannot afford that." Her eyes clouded over with something that Alistair did not recognize, but he stepped back slightly regardless – sensing something in that look that he should be wary of. "It was you who told me that pressing against the Blight should be our first priority above all others."

"And yet you feel the need to remind me of that now?" Elissa laughed, but there was no joy in the sound of it. "I have not forgotten my duty, Alistair. I will leave this place with either an army of elves or an army of wolves you have my word on that. Now, can I get on with it… or did you want to stand here wasting more of my time?"

He let her go, snatching his hand away as though he'd been burned and wounded by the harsh bite of her words. It took him a moment to follow behind her, still recoiling from the encounter as he was, but when he did finally emerge into the temple he could see her approaching the Dalish Keeper who knelt already at the center of the ruined temple's entryway.

"Somehow I figured I'd find you waiting here…" Elissa said, circling around behind the man – her green eyes narrowed to slits as she watched him stand and face her.

"Did you? Well aren't you the intuitive one…" Zathrian replied with a harsh chuckle.

Alistair wanted to warn him that it wasn't a good idea to goad the temperamental rogue with an itchy sword hand, but he'd already crossed Elissa once and didn't like his odds if he chose to do so again in such quick succession.

"There was no way to tell what would happen once you discovered this ruin, so I decided to come myself and see to your safety." the keeper continued.

"See to our safety?" Elissa cackled, wiping an imaginary tear from her eye after her peals of false laughter had ended. "Come now! We both know you're only here to make sure I got your heart."

"And did you?" Zathrian asked, folding his arms across his chest and narrowing his eyes back at her.

"No, I did not." Elissa replied, folding her own arms and mimicking his body position with a mocking smile.

"Then why is it, I wonder, that you are leaving these ruins?" Zathrian asked, and Alistair could see that his own temper was rising with Elissa's steady prodding. He was unsure what she hoped to accomplish by angering the man, though she had often used the lack of focus held in strong emotion in her favor in the past.

"Funny story, that." Elissa laughed again, relaxing her posture a bit and pacing closer to the elf with a menacing smile on her face. "I've agreed to bring you back to parley with the Lady of the Forest."

"Oh! Is **that** what the spirit calls herself now?" Zathrian chuckled, relaxing his own posture and rolling his eyes. "And what is it that she wants with me, if I might inquire?"

"What is it you think she wants?" Elissa asked, giving him another opportunity to come clean and admit the truth behind the lies. Alistair desperately hoped the man took it this time because he could see Elissa's patience waning.

"To survive, I suspect." Zathrian replied succinctly. "That is the common nature amongst all such creatures, the will to survive." He tapped at his bottom lip, a half smile curving on his narrow mouth. "You **do** understand that the Lady actually **is** Witherfang, of course?"

"I am substantially more intelligent than you have given me credit for being, **Keeper**… this I can assure you." Elissa replied, and Alistair could sense the danger there – the barely stifled rage rising higher and higher beneath her skin.

"Then you know that regardless of what she has told you, regardless of what she might **seem** to be… the curse first came from her." Zathrian continued, pacing around behind her and watching her eyes follow over her shoulder.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk… Keeper… the time for your lies has long passed…" Elissa said, wagging her finger as she turned to face him. "The curse first came from **you**. I know it, and you know it… so let us stop playing these games. They do neither of us any favors."

"Lies!" Zathrian hissed, stepping up to her in his fury and stopping only a few inches from her face. "They attacked my clan, the same savages now that they have always been! They deserve to be wiped out, **not** defended!"

Elissa's face was calm and serene and betrayed none of the emotion boiling beneath it, which made Alistair fear all the more for this man's safety should he continue down the dangerous path he had chosen.

"Come, since you seem unwilling to do this on your own I will accompany you back down into the ruin. I will speak with your **Lady** and force her back into the form of Witherfang so that he may be slain and his heart taken." the keeper insisted, beckoning her with an impatient flick of his fingers.

"I will do no such thing." Elissa answered, the blank slate of her face opening into a grin that was anything but friendly. "I will accompany you to **speak** with the Lady, or the spirit, or Witherfang… whatever it is you wish to call her… but I will **not** be acting as your executioner."

"You claim they have regained their minds, but you have seen with your own eyes that they are still savage beasts. Their nature is unchanged!" Zathrian insisted, his own fury peaking at her open disobedience. "All they want is revenge or a release that I will not give them. Let us take the heart and be done with it."

"Still so much hatred after all this time…" Elissa said, her voice softer – her eyes unfocused and distant.

It was in that moment that Alistair realized what it was about this man that angered her so much. It wasn't that he had misled and lied to them. It wasn't that he stood there now making demands of them as though they owed him anything. It was that she saw something of herself within the man, some glimpse of her own future should she not manage to release her own thirst for vengeance.

"You were not there!" Zathrian hissed, and Elissa could hear the torment in his voice – could remember her own voice sounding the same. "You did not see what they did… to my son… to my daughter… and so many others," he continued, tears beginning to well under the weight of the memory. In her mind Elissa saw her own father lying on the floor, the last of his life bleeding from his body. "How can you know what it is to struggle to be safe? How can you tell me to let their crimes go unanswered?"

"Do not claim to know me, old man." Elissa hissed, wiping at her own eyes and watching his flicker to her with slight surprise when he saw his own grief reflected there. "I know more of suffering than you are ever likely to understand, and I need you to explain to me why you would allow your own people to suffer just to have your revenge. Is your vengeance worth **that **much?"

"I have sworn to protect my people, and I will." Zathrian replied, raising his chin haughtily. "But I will not lift a finger to help the descendants of savages who deserved the curse they received!"

"So you will let them suffer forever?" Elissa asked, the question almost a whisper – her voice strained as though it hurt her to even think the words.

"Tell me, tell me **truly** because I can see that you have suffered the ramifications of betrayal and so you understand what I am about to ask of you." Zathrian said, drifting closer to her – holding her eyes. "If you held your own daughter's lifeless body in your arms, if you watched as the last of your son's life bled out of his body and sank into the earth… would you not swear an eternity of pain on those who did those things to them?"

"Part of me wants to say yes… and that part of me is strong and furious… but I fight it down every day. I fight it down so that I do not become the monster myself." Elissa answered, and though she could feel the tears running from her eyes she did nothing to stop them. "I know that one day I may lose that battle and surrender myself to this fury growing within me… but today, today I ask you to fight that battle with me. Let go of your hatred, of your anger. Let it poison you no further." She reached out her hand to him, hoping that he would take it, feeling somehow that if he did then she too was capable of finding salvation.

"Very well… if you wish me to go and talk, then I will do so." Zathrian sighed, reaching out and taking her hand in his own. "But what if I am right? What if it is only more vengeance that they seek? Will you protect me as you have tried to protect them?"

"I will gladly shield you, so long as you go to them in peace." Elissa assured the man, who nodded reluctantly. "But should you attack them unprovoked, then you will force my hand in this matter, Zathrian, and I no more wish to harm you than I do them."

"You have my word, Warden. So long as they do not attempt to harm me – then neither shall I harm them," the elf offered, and Elissa released his hand – offering her elbow instead in the hopes that she could give him some modicum of protection by placing the man slightly behind her as she lead him into the lower chamber.

* * *

><p>"You have changed over the years, spirit." Zathrian said, his eyes passing over the nubile figure that she had adopted in lieu of her wolf body.<p>

"She is the Lady of the Forest, and **you** will address her properly!" Swiftrunner growled, rushing forward to menace the elf until Elissa planted herself in front of him – stopping the great red wolf with a palm against his chest.

"Swiftrunner, no…" Elissa said, watching his eyes pass down to her hand for a moment, then back to her face, before flickering back to Zathrian in anger.

Whether the furious pace of his heart beneath her hand was a reaction to her touch or to the elf's presence she could not decipher, but she allowed her hand to fall away just the same – watching as the wolf edged away from her and returned to the Lady's side.

"You've taken a name, spirit?" Zathrian asked, noting the short interaction of the wolf and the Warden with great interest – as well as the looks of her companions in reaction to it. "And you've given names to your pets as well."

Elissa flinched, listening to the menacing growls erupt around her at the elf's flippant disregard of the wolves as anything worth his notice.

"It was **they** who gave **me** a name, Zathrian. The names they take are their own," the Lady replied, with a soft smile. "They follow me because I help them to find who they are."

"Who **they** are has not changed from whom their ancestors were! They are wild savages even now!" Zathrian hissed, attempting to stride forward before Elissa stopped his motion just as she had that of the wolf – doing everything she could to maintain the fragile peace she had brokered. "Their twisted shape only mirrors their monstrous hearts, the worthless dogs!"

"He will not help us, Lady!" Swiftrunner growled, and Elissa saw a flash of sadness in his golden eyes before he turned them back to the spirit. "It is as I warned you, he is not here to talk, nor will he listen."

"No, no… I am here to talk." Zathrian said, rubbing at his brow and calming his surging emotions. "I simply see little point in it. We all know where this will lead, spirit. Your nature compels it, as does mine."

"It does not have to be that way." Elissa assured him, cautiously laying a hand on his arm – knowing the wrong move could send the whole room into chaos. "There is room in our hearts for compassion. After all this time, surely your retribution has been spent."

"My retribution is eternal, as is my pain… certainly you of all people can understand that." Zathrian replied, holding her stare – his eyes wounded and broken. "This is justice, no more."

"Are you certain that your pain is the **only** reason you will not end this curse?" the Lady asked, stepping down from her perch and ignoring the warning growl from Swiftrunner as she paced closer to Elissa. "Have you told the mortal how it was created?"

"He said that he called you forth and bound you to the body of the wolf." Elissa said, her eyes flickering over to the elf for a moment, certain that he had once again withheld the full truth from her.

"This much is true. Witherfang and I are bound as one being… but such powerful magic cannot be accomplished without some of the summoner's own blood…" the Lady continued, watching Elissa register what it was she was saying. "Your people believe you have rediscovered the immortality of your ancestors, but that is not true… is it, Zathrian? So long as the curse exists, so too do you."

"No, that is not how it is!" Zathrian hissed, turning desperate eyes to Elissa as he realized he was quickly losing control of the situation.

"How far will you go for this revenge, keeper?" Elissa hissed, backing away from him with furious eyes. "You call upon blood magic to warp the very world around you? You sacrifice your own people to punish those long dead? You manipulate me and **lie** even now when I have given you every opportunity to be truthful to me? Why?"

"I did it **for** my people!" Zathrian yelled, backing away as he realized his only allies might be turning on him. "For my daughter, and my son! For justice, I would do anything!"

"I should end you now!" Elissa shouted, advancing on him with a broken fury in her eyes. "It would almost be a mercy, to save you from this thing that you have become…"

"Kill him! Tear him apart now!" Swiftrunner growled, rushing forward to stand at Elissa's side – feeding off the power of her pain and hatred as though it was his own.

"For all your powers of speech, you are beasts still – **both** of you… the whole of human kind…" Zathrian said, smiling victoriously at the truth of his words. "You will gain nothing from killing me! Only I know how the ritual ends, and I will **never** do it!" He turned his eyes to Elissa then, offering one last plea. "You will find no allies in these creatures, Warden. They will turn on you as surely as you have turned on me."

"Perhaps they might." Elissa admitted, sharing a quick look with Swiftrunner. "But I can't help you do this, Zathrian. I won't."

"Neither will we." Alistair said, and he watched the brief look of surprise pass over Elissa's face as he moved to stand at her other side. "What you have done is wrong, Zathrian. We will stand for what is right, no matter the cost."

"Then make your peace, Wardens… for if you stand with these beasts, then you will die with them!" Zathrian hissed, backing away and casting something quick that froze all of the wolves and the spirit where they stood.

Elissa reached for her swords, bringing them out and up just in time to block the swiping branches of the newly animated tree that had barreled down upon her. She cut it back, rolling to the side to dodge the quick burst of flame that Wynne tossed in its direction before dashing forward to where Alistair had already engaged Zathrian.

She held his eyes for a moment, no words needed to convey the gratitude and relief she felt in having his support. He offered her a tense smile before hamstringing the keeper and dropping him to the floor where he panted at the end of her blade.

"No, no more… I-I cannot…" Zathrian struggled to get his breath. "I cannot d-defeat you…"

"Finish it!" Swiftrunner growled, and Elissa could feel the heat radiating from his body as he moved in at her side - freed from his prison with the keeper's collapse. "Kill him now!"

Elissa hesitated, her green eyes searching out for Alistair's amber, hoping to find some answer within – but it was the Lady who intervened.

"No, Warden… we will not kill him," she said, drifting close enough to lay her root like fingers on Elissa's arm – and watch her calm at that gentle touch. "If there is no room in our hearts for mercy, how can we expect there to be room in his?"

"I cannot do as you ask, spirit…" Zathrian said, his voice breaking underneath the strain of exhaustion and emotion. "I am too old to know mercy. All I see are the faces of my people… of my children. I… I cannot do it."

"This has gone on long enough, Zathrian." Elissa said, her blades sliding from her hands to the floor with a loud clatter in the silent room as she knelt before the elf. "Please, I need to believe that we are all capable of overcoming the rage within us. I need to believe that the darkness does not win in the end. I am **begging** you to give me that hope."

"Perhaps I have lived too long…" Zathrian said sadly, reaching over to lay a cool hand on Elissa's cheek – his heart going out to her in a way that he thought he would never feel for a human. "This hatred in me is like an ancient, gnarled root… it has consumed my very soul…"

"Then, there is truly no hope for me…" Elissa whispered, collapsing back onto the floor – her shoulders slumping as her resolve faded.

"No, I… there is **always** hope…" Zathrian insisted, rolling forward onto his feet to reach for her again. "You are fighting your nature in a way that I never did… as long as you fight, there is hope… and I… perhaps I can pull something out of myself to make you believe… perhaps I can make one last offering to the world…" the elf continued, turning his face up to the Lady. "Spirit… you are bound to this curse just as I am. Do you not fear your own end?"

"You are my maker, Zathrian. You gave me form and consciousness where none existed. I have known pain and love, hope and fear, all the joy that is this life," the Lady said, reaching her limbs forward and helping both elf and human to stand again. "Yet, of all these things… I desire nothing more than an end. I beg you, maker. Put an end to me… to us… to this curse upon these poor souls. Show mercy."

"I will do as you ask, spirit." Zathrian sighed, turning to Elissa one last time. "Let this give you the hope that you need to continue your own battle, Warden, and may you succeed where I have failed."

Elissa started to speak, but found she could not – and so stood watching with tear filled eyes as Zathrian chanted the words required to end his ritual before crumbling to the ground leaving the Lady to dissolve into a filmy green mist until nothing remained.

She watched Alistair kneel to check the keeper's pulse, shaking his head to indicate the elf was gone – before moving back to join her companions at the rear of the chamber and give Elissa a moment alone to collect herself as he knew she would need.

"I-It's over… she's gone and we… we're **human**." Swiftrunner's voice grumbled beside her, and she turned to him – having very nearly forgotten he was there when consumed by her sorrow. "I can scarcely believe it."

"I'd imagine that would be a difficult adjustment after so long…" Elissa said, hastily wiping her tear streaked face and watching the man stretch his long arms out inspecting the human-ness of them with wide eyes – it was in that moment she realized that he was now completely naked.

Her eyes ran the full length of his body before she could stop them, and she felt her skin heating from the blush she was sure had overtaken her face as she forced them back to his face and cleared her throat, turning slightly away from him in a ridiculous attempt to maintain some sense of propriety.

"I cannot thank you enough, my Lady." Swiftrunner said, reaching forward to take her hand and looking down at them as though the touch of his skin against the leather of her gloves was the most amazing sensation he had ever experienced. "You fought for us when you did not have to, and when I gave you every reason to end us at the point of your blade."

"I… I suppose I saw something in you worth saving…" Elissa responded, her voice shaking as she met his golden eyes – their hue forever changed by the curse that had once afflicted him.

"And what do you see now?" Swiftrunner asked, smirking as he brought her hand to his lips and pressed a brazen kiss to her knuckles.

"I see a very attractive man in desperate need of some clothing." Elissa managed to choke out, sharing a low chuckle with him afterward as she averted her eyes and continued to blush furiously under his attentions.

She watched him toss up an arm to catch a pair of simple linen pants one of his companions had procured from somewhere, and turned to the side as he slid them on – though she could not help but watch from the corner of her eye – something he noticed and seemed to appreciate.

"Where will you go now?" Elissa asked, desperate for some sort of conversation to keep her mind from going where it kept insisting on going.

"We will have to leave the forest, I suppose," the man answered, walking forward and tugging a shirt on with a smug smile. "Better?"

"Yes, thank you." Elissa replied, clearing her throat and turning to face him properly – though he was still difficult to look at knowing, as she did, what he looked like beneath those clothes.

"I'll take us toward the closest city, search for other humans." Swiftrunner continued, pacing with Elissa over to the others who were all in various states of undress as they sorted out the clothes issue. "Should be interesting to see what's out there for us now, don't you think?"

"It will not be as easy as you think, I am afraid." Elissa explained, watching his brow furrow as he turned his golden eyes to her once again. "The whole of the country is ravaged by Blight and Civil War. Few are willing to trust strangers in these times."

"Few save you, it would appear." Swiftrunner replied, holding her gaze again.

"Yes… well I'm in the process of building an army, which makes me open to taking in strange bedfellows these days." Elissa replied with a chuckle, realizing what she had said a moment too late and blushing furiously again. "By that I mean… allies… allies **not** bedfellows… nothing to do with beds…"

"Indeed… well, if it is **allies** you are in need of, Warden – then I can think of no better way to repay this debt to you than to offer our efforts to support your cause." Swiftrunner chuckled, smiling at her blush – and the slip of the tongue that had brought it on her.

"I will not turn down the offer, though I admit – I feel somewhat guilty for holding you back from your lives with the possibility of your deaths as your only reward." Elissa answered, looking sheepishly down at the floor and wondering what it was about this man that made her behave like such a love struck child.

"I have missed out on much with the loss of these years in the forest, but I remember enough to know that if your Blight wages unchecked – then there will be nowhere left for us to live our lives, if we live at all." Swiftrunner answered, and Elissa watched his people start to circle in behind him – prepared to follow his lead.

"Alright, then I accept your offer." Elissa said, offering her hand – and noting that rather than shaking it as she intended, he kissed it again in response – reluctantly allowing her to pull it back from his grasp and reach for her dagger.

She pulled free a lock of her hair and cut it off, moving the dagger to make a small cut in her palm and pressing the hair into it – saturating it before tying the mass into a knot and reaching out to hand it to Swiftrunner.

"Have you heard of Soldier's Peak?" Elissa asked, watching him take the bundle with some confusion before reaching over to inspect the cut on her hand – gesturing to a nearby woman who provided him with a strip of cloth, which he used to bandage her wound.

"The abandoned Warden station? Yes… I've heard legend of it." Swiftrunner replied, securing the cloth gently and pressing down to aid in stopping its bleeding.

"Then you know where it is?" Elissa asked, watching him nod in response. "Good. We have retaken it and maintain a secret base there. Take the hair and blood I have given you and go there. You will find a dwarf named Bodahn. Give it to him and tell him I have sent you. If he gives you any problems, tell him to take you to the mage." She watched him smirk at her lengthy instructions, and rolled her eyes – squeezing at his hand to assure him there was a reason for her cryptic behavior. "Avernus will know this blood is mine and that I have sent you. He will likely ask you a great many questions as well, but you should simply ignore those and I'll answer them when I return."

"I know that times are difficult, if what you say is true." Swiftrunner replied, stroking lightly at the bandage covering the cut in her hand. "But surely all this cloak and dagger business is unnecessary. Shouldn't most of the country be working to stop the Blight with you?"

"They should, but they… aren't. There is more to this story than you know, and more than I have time to explain now, I'm afraid." Elissa replied, delicately pulling her hand from his grasp. "I have to return to the Dalish and hope they will still honor their treaty after I tell them that their keeper is dead."

"I could accompany you, if you wish." Swiftrunner offered, tilting his head enough to note that all of her companions were carefully watching his every move – particularly the tall blonde man at the back. "I can explain that he died of his own volition, and not at your hand."

"I'm fairly certain that is a bad idea." Elissa replied with a low laugh. "The Dalish second is an intelligent woman who will likely understand, but I cannot trust that the remaining elves will be so quick to forgive what has transpired here regardless of the reasons behind it or the outcome in the end. Besides… the journey to Soldier's Peak is long, and you must travel it unarmed and without the proper clothes."

"I suspect we will make do." Swiftrunner replied, with a laugh of his own. "We always have."

"Here." Elissa said, reaching into her pack and grabbing a coin purse that was full to overflowing then tossing it into his hand. "Take this. Stop at the nearest town and get enough clothing and provisions to make it to the Peak. Once you're there – Bodahn and Levi will be able to show you where the supplies are kept."

"My Lady, there has to be eighty or ninety sovereigns here… I… I cannot take this." Swiftrunner replied, trying to return it and watching as she stepped out of his range.

"It is not nearly enough to feed and clothe all of you properly, but it will provide enough for you to reach your destination with some degree of comfort." Elissa answered, waving off his attempts to return it to her.

"You are…" Swiftrunner began, closing the distance between them in one long step and sending a chill racing down Elissa's spine in reaction to his nearness. "You are an amazing woman."

"And you are testing my patience you incorrigible man." Elissa countered with a flash of her emerald eyes, hoping that her playful treatment of his insistent flirting would keep him at bay in much the same way it did Zevran. "Now be gone! I have things to do and you have road to travel."

"As you wish, my Lady." Swiftrunner replied, bowing to her before turning and shuffling his people out the door.

Elissa could sense Leliana moving in beside her, Wynne not far behind.

"Wow… just… **wow**…" the bard said, and Elissa could hear the smile in her voice even before she turned to watch the woman appreciatively watching the backside of the man who descended the stairs in front of them.

"Indeed…" Elissa huffed, letting out a long held breath and fanning down the heat in her face as he moved out of their line of sight. As she turned to Wynne she could see there was a good deal of color in the elder mage's face as well. "Why, Wynne… are **you** blushing?"

"I'm old, not dead, child." Wynne chuckled, listening to the other two women laugh along with her. "And the heat coming off that man… I'm surprised you didn't melt standing so close for so long."

"As am I." Elissa laughed, stifling it when she saw the looks on the remaining companions faces. "But, I wager the rest of our party is not so… entertained… perhaps we should be on our way then."

She cleared her throat and put them all into motion, directing the company up the long stairs and back toward the Dalish encampment.


	40. Chapter 40: No Sleep 'Til Denerim

_**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** Getting down to the end of Book Two here! It's been so much fun :) _

_Thanks as usual to my readers, followers and reviewers! Hugs to you all. Extra kudos to my Lady Beta **artemiskat**._

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Forty: No Sleep 'Til Denerim<strong>_

Elissa could not shake the bard on the way back to the Dalish camp. The Chantry sister had many questions about the former werewolf and what they had spoken of following the dissolution of the curse. She was thrilled beyond words when Elissa explained that he was likely headed to The Peak and would be awaiting them there when next they returned, and that she should pose most of her questions to him as she certainly didn't have any of the answers.

"Do you think he would take some time to speak with me? I have so many questions!" Leliana asked her, tapping at her lip and thinking of all the things she would ask.

"That depends. Are you going to ask him questions or strip him down?" Elissa chuckled, watching the bard's lips curl up into a smile as she flicked her eyes over and shared in the laughter. "From the look on your face, I can't tell which is most likely."

"I'll ask him questions first, **then** strip him down." Leliana replied, a positively lascivious grin taking over her face. "Unless Morrigan gets to him first… I hadn't thought of that. Maudire cette sorcière!"

"Yes, I'd imagine Morrigan is going to be **very** interested in our new guest." Elissa laughed, sharing a knowing grin with the bard. "Though, she'll probably be just as interested in his experiences as a werewolf as she is in what's underneath his clothing. Morrigan is nothing if not… thorough."

The two women erupted in peals of laughter, wondering who would win in **that** battle of wills. The companionable discussion between the two women who were usually at odds only made Alistair more curious what they were up to.

"She is going to be positively furious that she missed out on… meeting him as we all did." Leliana noted, covering her chuckle with a hand.

"Oh, **I'll** not be the one to tell her about that." Elissa laughed again, shaking her head. "I'll never hear the end of it… Can you imagine?" She did her very best uptight witch impression: "_The one time I'm left behind and you have a run in with a naked wolf man. 'Tis not fair! I think you did this on purpose. It's probably the Templar's fault._"

The two burst into laughter again, managing to silence and control themselves as they passed back into the borders of the Dalish camp.

* * *

><p>As Elissa approached the Dalish <em>First<em>, now the new Keeper she supposed, she almost wished she had taken Swiftrunner up on his offer to accompany her and deliver the news. Mithra, the angry huntress who had menaced Elissa and her companions from the moment they came into view, stood at the young woman's side – and Elissa did not look forward to her response to the news.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Alistair asked, lingering at her side after the others had moved back toward the area where Zathrian had allowed them to make camp.

"Yes, actually… if you wouldn't mind." Elissa replied, turning her eyes to his for a second before flicking them away – ashamed to be asking such a thing after the way she'd been treating him lately.

"If I minded, I wouldn't have offered." Alistair replied with a sad smile.

It broke her heart to see him this way, but she reminded herself it was probably for the best. Flemeth had been very specific about her message. It was not her destiny to remain with this man, so she was doing him a kindness by letting him go – whether he saw it that way or not.

"Thank you, Wardens… I do not know what you did, but whatever it was has banished all traces of the curse from our people." Lanaya said, dipping her head with a smile that was not shared by the huntress at her side. "It is too bad that Zathrian had to die. I… I felt it when he departed. But he has been… distant for some time. I think he was ready to go."

"He was a hero in the end." Elissa assured the women, knowing it would do little to dull the pain but hoping it would at least help them to celebrate his life. "He did what he had to in order to save his people. You could not ask for more."

"No, **we** could not." Mithra hissed, narrowing her eyes as she stalked away.

"I apologize… Mithra was… **fond** of Zathrian. His shoes will be difficult to fill." Lanaya explained, watching as her subtle hint clicked in the Warden's mind making the elven woman's fury **much** more understandable. "But… I am Keeper now, so let me say it officially…" the young elf continued, reaching over to take Elissa's hand in her own. "I hereby swear to uphold the terms of the ancient contract our people formed with the Grey Wardens. Call and we shall come, with great speed and purpose, and we shall strike down your foes. This I swear."

"Thank you, Lanaya." Elissa said, bowing her head and squeezing the woman's hand with gratitude.

"It has been many centuries since the Dalish have marched to war… but, I trust in the end – we shall make a difference for you." Lanaya offered with a sad smile. "And now, you must excuse me. I must attend to the Zathrian's final rites."

"Of course." Elissa replied, releasing her hand and stepping away politely.

"You don't think you should have warned her about the **other** allies you picked up back in the ruins…" Alistair muttered under his breath.

"At the moment, no." Elissa replied with a heavy sigh. "She has enough to deal with. I will answer for that sin when I have to. For now, let the elves mourn in peace."

"Where are you going now?" Alistair asked, watching as she dug through her pack and produced the scarf she had taken from the werewolf whose life she had taken in a mercy killing. "Oh…"

"Yes indeed, more dreadful news to deliver." Elissa answered, tossing her pack back on her shoulder. "I'll see you later, yes? We have some… things to speak of."

Alistair simply nodded, noting the dark circles under her eyes as she moved off to the rear of the camp in search of the silver-haired elf whose wife she had murdered.

* * *

><p>"You have returned." Athras said, smiling at her as she strolled slowly to his side and stared out into the forest. "Is there… do you have news of Danyla?"<p>

"I do." Elissa replied, unrolling the scarf in her hands and holding it out to him.

"This is… her scarf…" he whispered, reaching out to take the beautiful rose colored fabric with shaking fingers. "Where did you find her? What has become of her?"

"I found her on the boundaries of the ruins. The werewolves had taken her in and were attempting to care for her but she… she left. She was trying to return to you." She explained, a pain shooting through her when he brought his eyes up to her face.

"The werewolves were caring for her then she…" Athras began, swallowing hard – unable to get the words out.

"She was a werewolf, just as you expected." Elissa admitted, reaching over to take his hands over the scarf. "She died, Athras. I'm so sorry… I… she asked me to send you her love. To encourage you not to mourn for her or let her tragedy harden your heart. She wants you to live your life with love and happiness."

"She told you all that?" he chuckled, pained tears running freely down his face. "Yes… that is what she would do. I am thankful in a way, that this is over… that she is at peace… and you, you have been most kind, my friend."

"I'm not sure I would call being the bearer of tragedy a kindness," she said mournfully, squeezing the elf's fingers.

"But it is. You said it yourself, to live without knowing… **that** is true suffering." Athras said, squeezing her fingers once more before releasing her hands. "And now, I must go and make arrangements. Dareth shiral… Warden. I will never forget you."

Elissa bowed slightly to him, watching him move into the camp to seek out Lanaya and add his wife's funerary rites to the ever-growing list.

* * *

><p>Alistair watched from the fire outside his tent as Elissa slowly made her rounds through the camp delivering both horrible news and requested trinkets to those who had requested favors of her. It seemed the more people she spoke to, the darker the cloud over her head became – the joyous levity shared between herself and the bard after Swiftrunner's… transformation… completely drained from her body.<p>

He would gladly have endured watching her blush and flirt with the exceptionally attractive, now very human, man if it would put a smile on her face again. Even her brief conversation with the assassin did little to lift her mood, and so when she finally approached their tent – he prepared himself for the worst.

She did not speak when she got there, just squeezed his shoulder and ducked inside their tent. When he crawled in after her she was removing her armor and piling it carefully in the corner.

"Should I take this as a sign that you'll actually be **staying** with me tonight?" Alistair asked, afraid to hope – but taking the fact that she was now removing the pins and lock picks from her hair and combing it out with her fingers as a good sign.

"I don't want to fight, Alistair." Elissa said, her voice sad as she turned to him. "You wanted to talk, so here I am and we've got all night so let's talk."

"I don't want to fight either, Elissa…" he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands in frustration. "But it seems like that's all we do lately. I… I feel like I can't do anything right where you're concerned. You aren't eating or sleeping, you barely speak – and the only time I've seen you smile in days was in response to the flirty wolf man."

"This again?" she huffed, throwing herself back onto the bedroll and covering her face with an arm.

"**Again?**" Alistair hissed, blowing out a great puff of air as he realized he'd already managed to upset her. "I don't recall ever having encountered **another** flirty wolf man… I think I would have remembered that."

"He was attractive, Alistair… and very **naked** for a moment there… it caught me off guard and I-I... **reacted**! In the end, I'm a human being who responded in a basic human way." Elissa ranted, sitting up furiously. "If you'd been standing there stark naked when I met **you**, I'd likely have passed right out when all the blood rushed to my head! It isn't a reaction tied specifically to Swiftrunner, you know!" She watched him blush furiously at the idea of having been standing naked speaking to the mage back at Ostagar and forced herself not to laugh in response. "I won't keep apologizing for doing nothing wrong! I… I flirt because it is useful, and because – in Zevran's case – it's simply how he communicates. Sometimes it's how **I** communicate. I… Alistair… are you going to punish me for every single man who finds me attractive? Every single man who I acknowledge? Is it going to be Cailan over and over again as long as we're together?"

"That was… I was…" he stuttered, seeing her point and appalled that she thought he would ever do such a thing again. "I would **never** do that again, Elissa. I should never have done it the first time… I thought… it doesn't matter what I thought. What I did was horrible, and unforgivable…"

"What you did was not entirely your fault…" she said, tucking her legs in under her and picking anxiously at her fingernails.

"What? It **was** entirely my fault!" Alistair insisted, crawling forward and waiting for her to acknowledge him again.

"Maybe not… I… Flemeth told me some things, before we killed her." Elissa explained, turning her face up to his and holding his eyes steadily. "Alistair, I'm tainted."

"Aaaaaand so am I… it's kind of part of the whole Warden package," he replied, his brow knitting in confusion. "Don't tell me you needed some crazy old swamp witch to tell you that?"

"Nooo… it's more than just the regular Warden taint. I don't know if it was something that Avernus' concoction changed in me or simply some part of me that has always been there – Flemeth wasn't exactly specific in her description of its origin," she continued, just plugging through – needing to get everything out so they could make their peace with the ending of things and refocus on their main agenda. "She said that the darkness in me would infect anyone who got close to me, would change them… poison them…"

"You think you've… **poisoned** me?" Alistair asked, his eyes gone wide as he inspected her to see if she was joking – if she was making this up as some sort of horribly inappropriate joke at his expense.

"Can't you see it? The man I met back in Ostagar would **never** have done what you did to me!" Elissa insisted, tears starting to well up as she thought of it.

"The man you met back in Ostagar wouldn't have done a lot of things, Elissa." Alistair reassured her, reaching out to take her hands in his own. "People change, and not always for the better. **You** are the first relationship I have ever had, and so… I did not realize when we started this that I had such a capacity for jealousy. It is **that** that causes my… behavior, not some darkness inside of you."

"Flemeth was very clear, Alistair," she said, shaking her head at him. "We shouldn't… I shouldn't… I'll only hurt you in the end, and I don't want that."

"You can't let Flemeth decide your future, Elissa. **We** make our lives what we want them to be… and if we want to be together, **we** will make it happen. You will not _taint _me any more than I have tainted myself," he insisted, reaching forward to hold her face in his hands. "I love you, Elissa. I refuse to believe that we cannot be together because of some future that a dead witch claims is written in the stars!"

"She's been right, Alistair – right about **everything** so far." Elissa responded, her voice breaking as she really started to cry. "I see no reason to believe she is wrong about this."

"Did she tell you **not** to be with me? Did she say that it was destined to be this way?" Alistair asked, angry that he was forced to use the witch's own logic in order to convince the woman he loved to stay with him.

"N-no… she said the future was m-mutable… not written in stone," she admitted, and Alistair saw a flicker of hope bloom to life within her eyes.

"Then **fight** with me… fight for us…" he insisted, leaning in and pressing his forehead to hers. "I cannot see a future where you are not by my side. I refuse to. Stay with me, Elissa. Tonight and forever."

Elissa knew it was a bad idea, even as she gave in to his soft lips pressing against her own. She knew it was a bad idea when she let him lay her back onto their bedroll and slowly remove their clothing. She knew it was a bad idea when she lost herself in the warm amber depths of his eyes as he made love to her in the firelight.

But she allowed it. She allowed herself to believe that he was right. She allowed herself to hope that they would get their happy ending, that she would spend eternity by his side.

As she drifted to sleep, wrapped once again in the warm embrace of this beautiful man she had come to adore – she offered a prayer to whatever god might be listening that he was right, and set her mind to shutting down that part of her heart that knew, without a doubt, that he was not.

* * *

><p>The journey to Redcliffe was blissfully silent, only a couple of roving bands of darkspawn managing to cross their path. Elissa was eternally grateful for this break, using the window of time to enjoy the company of her companions and the beauty of the countryside through which they traveled.<p>

It was only when she saw the spires of Redcliffe Castle come into view, that she felt the weight of her burden begin to press down on her again.

"You can't avoid him this time." Alistair reminded her, knowing that Eamon was on her mind when the shadows crossed her face again.

"I know." Elissa sighed, steeling herself for what she was sure would be an unpleasant conversation.

She and Alistair hit the castle bedchambers briefly, depositing their things and changing into more comfortable clothes before seeking out his uncles. Once they reached the main hall, Eamon did his best not to disappoint her.

"I understand you've acquired all the allies you could?" Eamon said with a half-sneer.

"I acquired quite a few more than even the treaties allotted us." Elissa retorted, crossing her arms in frustration and picking at the gauzy fabric of the shirt she could only assume Isolde had left for her. "I would think that to be a bit more impressive than you seem willing to give me credit for."

"Oh, it is impressive… I simply hope it will be enough…" Eamon replied, smiling his smile of false nobility and knowing that she did not buy it. "Now that you've finished amassing your army… we should call the Landsmeet as soon as possible. I would prefer not giving Loghain any more time to consider his options as I am certain that by now he has heard of my recovery, as well as the forces you have managed to collect. You have not been…_ silent_in your travels."

"Defending oneself from regular attacks is rarely a _silent_ business, Eamon… you will have to forgive me if I gave little consideration to how my actions would affect your political machinations." Elissa snipped, narrowing her eyes and drifting closer to the man before Alistair laid a calming hand on her arm – sharing a concerned look with Teagan and thankful that Isolde had chosen to remain in her quarters with Connor as this situation was already a powder keg.

"As you say, Warden." Eamon replied, tipping his head to her. "Either way, we should make our journey to Denerim as soon as possible. The longer we linger here, the greater the chances that Loghain will retaliate before we are ready to defend ourselves."

"I can have my companions ready by tomorrow morning." Elissa replied haughtily, flicking her long hair back over her shoulder with a grin. "Will **that** suffice?"

"I imagine it will." Eamon replied with a humorless chuckle, watching her turn with his nephew and his brother to excuse themselves for the evening. "A word, Lady Cousland…" he added, watching her head snap back to him at the use of her true name – and his nephew's feet still as well. "**Alone**, if you will."

She nodded her assent to him, and sent Alistair on his way – stepping cautiously back into the room and closing the door behind her.

"Well? Let's have it then… I need to get my companions ready to travel again tomorrow and I would like to get **some** sleep tonight." Elissa barked, frustrated and uncomfortable.

"You certainly don't mince your words, do you?" Eamon laughed, leaning back against the dais with a carefully constructed smile. "That must have come from your mother. Bryce was always more on the diplomatic side."

"You would do well not to speak of my parents as though they were **friends** of yours." Elissa cautioned him, eyes narrowing as she thought about the limited contact the Couslands had with the Guerrins. "As I recall, the only time we ever heard from you or your… _lovely_ bride, was when you sought to make a match between myself and our former King."

"You're probably right." Eamon allowed, shrugging his shoulders. "Though it matters little now. Cailan is dead, and that match never… took."

"No, it did not." Elissa replied, watching him cautiously as he stepped down from the dais and moved toward her.

"Right to the point then. Though it pains me to admit, I find that I am in need of your… _skills_." Eamon said, holding her eyes.

"And what skills would those be?" Elissa asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"At the moment, persuasion." Eamon answered, and suddenly – the fact that he had cornered her alone all made sense. "My nephew has been… resistant… to the idea that he must take the throne now that Cailan is gone. I need you to use your formidable ability to control him to make him see that he must do his duty as a Theirin and serve Ferelden as its King."

"Funny, that you choose to call him by his blood name **now** after Cailan lies cold and silent. You seemed content enough to shuffle him off to some barn or monastery when he was not of use to you." Elissa hissed, her voice low and angry. "I don't control him, as you seem to believe, and I don't see why I should help to convince him of anything on your behalf."

"Because you are not doing it for me, you are doing it for Ferelden." Eamon retorted, his own voice raising with his temper. "I may not have known your father well, but I do know he was awfully fond of the saying _a Cousland always does their duty_ – and this **is** your duty, Elissa Cousland – whether you like it or not. You must do what is right for the country, regardless of your own personal feelings on the matter."

"How **dare** you twist my father's own words against me!" Elissa yelled, rushing forward and shaking her finger in the arrogant man's face – barely able to control the tremors of fury that shook her entire body.

She paced, running her fingers through her hair, reaching for anything she could say to deny him – anything she could do to derail this plan – but she knew there was nothing. Whether the Arl had plans for Alistair afterward or not – and Elissa was **certain** he did – she knew that he was the best man for the job, and the best option for Ferelden. Anora was a disaster. She was cruel and manipulative and even should they manage to remove Loghain from the equation, she doubted that would change. Eamon himself was too old to be biddable – and Teagan was… well… _Teagan_.

"Fine… I will speak to him." Elissa began, watching the smug smile take over the Arl's face as he started to speak. "**But**, I will not force this on him. Alistair is his own man, and has his own mind. If he decides that he does not wish to be King, then I will support that decision."

"And in the meantime?" Eamon inquired, wondering if he had his tenuous alliance at last.

"In the meantime, I shall do my best to convince him that taking the throne is the best option for all of us." Elissa said, her voice faltering as she realized that she was doing the exact thing she had promised Alistair she would never do and hoping that he would forgive her. "Now, if you are done with me, I would like to see to my preparations."

Eamon nodded his head, watching her disappear down the hall as he took a moment to revel in his victory.

* * *

><p>Elissa stopped by Morrigan's room briefly to turn over Flemeth's grimoire and recount the tale of the battle with the werewolves – being certain to omit the portion about Swiftrunner and the… nudity at the end. She would find out soon enough, and Elissa was content to take that verbal abuse at another time when she felt less like she might fall over at any moment.<p>

She could hear Alistair discussing the Qun with an amazingly patient (by his standards) Sten as she reached the doorway to the room that they shared, and hesitated for a moment before opening the slightly parted door and moving inside.

"Ah, there you are." Alistair grinned, standing from his chair with Sten as she entered the door. "Sten was just telling me about qunari mages… makes our Circle look like a nursery in comparison."

"And you can discuss this in a civil manner with him, but only manage to argue of it with me?" Elissa laughed, catching Sten's violet eyes briefly as he moved to take his leave for the evening.

"You rarely discuss anything on which you do not agree without arguing, kadan." Sten smirked, patting her head as he shut the door behind him.

"Well, you don't look as though you've been sent into a murderous rage." Alistair quipped, sitting on the end of the bed and motioning her forward with a slight flick of his fingers. "Can I assume that whatever my uncle had to speak of was not too horrific after all?"

"You could… but you'd be wrong." Elissa replied, placing one knee on either side of his thigh as she crawled into his lap.

"Seriously? We just raised an army and solved an entire laundry list of problems along the way… I don't see what the man could possibly have to complain about at this point," he laughed, letting his fingers stray under the bottom of her shirt and stroke at the soft skin of her lower back.

"It wasn't a complaint, so much as a request for my aid," she responded, reaching her hands up and knitting her fingers together behind his head – threading her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

"He asked you for help?" Alistair snorted, smirking at her. "Well this ought to be good."

"He wanted me to urge you to give serious consideration to his wishes to have you take the throne once Loghain has been dealt with." Elissa explained, watching his eyes go wide for a moment before he erupted fully in laughter.

"Oh, that's rich! No one can ever say my uncle hasn't got nerve," he said when he could stifle the giggling enough to speak. "I'd almost have paid to see the look on his face when you told him **no**." He continued to laugh, waiting for her to join him – noting that she did not. "You **did** tell him no, right? I mean… we've talked about this… you agreed that making me King was a ridiculous notion."

"I agreed that I would not force you onto the throne against your will," she corrected, feeling him pull away from her but holding tightly to him so that he couldn't. "I never said I didn't agree with your uncle about you being the right man to sit there."

"Well, that proves it – I have definitely taken one too many blows to the head." Alistair responded, rolling his eyes. "I swear I just heard the words _I agree with your uncle_ coming out of your mouth."

"Alistair – I disagree with Eamon about almost everything imaginable – **except** this." Elissa said, reaching up to hold his face softly. "you are an amazing man and you would make an exceptional King."

"I know nothing about nobility and politics, Elissa – I lived in a barn – an **actual** barn for the first portion of my life, and then a monastery after that!" he yelped, unable to believe that she was even suggesting such a thing. "I'm fairly certain that being King requires a great deal more than bad jokes and good intentions, which is all I have to offer."

"You don't honestly believe that, do you?" she asked him, tilting her head and regarding his face intently – pressing him lightly back to the bed and stroking at his hair. "Alistair, I've said this before – and I will say it again. You have the biggest heart of anyone I have ever known. You honestly want what is best, not just for yourself – but for everyone you encounter. You are honest, and smart, and loyal - to a fault at times… and, unlike Cailan, you are **not** naive when it comes to matters of war. I can think of no one better for the job."

"That was… quite the speech." Alistair said, his words whispered as he held her eyes. "I almost believe you."

"If you don't want to be King, Alistair – then I will support that decision – but, I ask that you consider the idea that I might be right – and that **you** might very well be the man for the job." Elissa insisted, patting his chest likely. "Will you at least consider it?"

"I will… think about it," he acquiesced, sighing heavily. "But I make no promises."

"And I will not ask for them," she laughed, leaning forward and kissing him softly. "Now, what do you say we… tire ourselves out for the evening?"

"That seems much more like the kind of suggestion I could easily find myself agreeing to…" Alistair replied, and she could feel the grin on his face as he kissed her again.

* * *

><p>Both Elissa and Alistair's anxiety levels skyrocketed the closer they got to Denerim. Eamon and his party had traveled slightly ahead of them, Elissa insisting that they be extra cautious lest she and Alistair be recognized en route. The presence of Loghain and Howe's men increased seven fold once they reached the outer edge of the city.<p>

Alistair was asked not to leave the estate once they'd made it safely inside the city. Eamon felt it was simply too risky for him to travel outside the protection of his walls when he was the last living member of the Theirin line – and Elissa agreed, much to his frustration. He did not shy away from pointing out that so far as they knew, she was the last living member of the Cousland line and yet she traveled freely in the streets.

"I am a rogue, Alistair – I can come and go without being detected so long as I'm careful – and Zevran makes sure I'm very careful," she said, preparing to leave one afternoon.

She'd gone stir crazy only a few days after they'd arrived, swearing to Alistair that if she didn't get out of the confines of Eamon's city estate and find something to do in the city that she **would** in fact go into the murderous rage that he always referred to in jest.

Alistair reluctantly agreed, choosing not to speak of what she was actually up to since she chose to take only Zevran and Morrigan along with her. He'd heard rumor of a series of thefts (including that of Loghain's crown), several members of Howe's company who had suffered from suspicious accidental deaths, and even a few groups of marauders who had been ousted from the local whorehouse – much to the joy of the city guard.

When she came barreling through the door laughing with the assassin and the witch, unwinding the cowl she used to disguise her face and hair and doubling over – he was almost sad he was missing out on all the fun.

"What's so funny?" he asked, walking forward with a smile and watching Elissa remove her dark leather gloves – the trio had taken to wearing black, completely nondescript suits of armor while they traveled the city limits and the look made Elissa in particular look quite a bit like a cat burglar.

"We, may, have just earned our assassin here his freedom." Elissa chuckled, reaching forward and hugging Alistair to her side. It had been a glorious day and she was feeling particularly happy.

"I'm almost afraid to ask what you had to do in order to accomplish that." Alistair replied, unable to keep himself from smiling at her when she was in such a good mood.

"Don't worry yourself, my large blonde friend," the assassin drawled, sharing a subtle grin with Morrigan. "The less you know of our… activities over the past few days, the better, seeing as you will soon sit on the throne."

Alistair rolled his eyes at the suggestion, and started to argue – but silenced quickly when Teagan burst into the room with a tense look on his face.

"What is it, Teagan?" Elissa asked, still giggling. "You look as though you've seen an ogre."

"May as well have been." Teagan replied, stalking forward. "Loghain is here, and he's brought Howe along."

"Rendon Howe is **here**, in the estate?" Elissa said, her eyes narrowing and her body beginning to tremble both with anticipation and fury.

"Yes, they wish to speak with Eamon about the Landsmeet… you must hide, My Lady…" Teagan insisted, reaching over to try and shuffle her out of the room. "You and Alistair both…"

"I shall do no such thing." Elissa retorted, refastening her gloves and retrieving her cowl. "I'll not be excluded from this meeting simply because that monster of a man seeks to claim me as a prize. I will disguise myself if necessary, but I will hear what they have to say one way or another."

"If you're going, then so am I." Alistair insisted, shaking off Teagan's arguments. "They know you've put me forward as King, Teagan – the jig is up where I'm concerned. Hiding from them or disguising my identity will do little good at this point."

Elissa instructed Zevran to hide in the shadows just in case, and the group set off to join up with Eamon in the meeting room.

* * *

><p>"Teagan, I told you to get them <strong>away<strong> from the area – not bring them here!" Eamon snipped when the group came walking through the doors.

"Yes, **brother**." Teagan replied, frustrated at having been spoken to like an idiot child yet again and wondering how his brother could have believed either one of them would have simply acquiesced to his request in the first place. "It would appear as though our nephew and the Lady have minds of their own, surprisingly enough, and have chosen to join us regardless."

"This is a stupid risk you take." Eamon hissed, glaring daggers at Elissa but forced to silence as the Teyrn strode into the room, flanked by his personal guard and Howe.

Alistair could see Elissa's body trembling lightly as her emerald eyes locked onto the Arl's slender form, and hoped that she would be able to contain herself until the men had finished their discussion.

"Loghain. This is an honor." Eamon said, bowing with a slight smile. "I'm surprised that the reagent would find time to greet me personally."

"How could I not welcome a man so **important** as to call every Lord in Ferelden away from their estates even though a Blight claws at our land." Loghain sneered, passing his eyes over the group and nearly laughing aloud when he saw Alistair standing there.

Elissa noted his amusement with a careful eye, sliding a little further behind her fellow Warden's broad shoulders when Howe inspected her a bit too closely for her tastes.

To see him here again and not strike out her blades against him was almost more than she could bear. She could see Alistair's own restraint threatening to break, and the light flush that had colored his cheeks when Loghain had the nerve to behave as though he was doing anything to fight the Blight – anything other than single-handedly wiping out the very order that could actually end it.

She swore to herself that she would have her revenge, if not here in this hall once Eamon had his say – then soon – soon Howe would pay for what he had done to her, for what he had taken. And Loghain would answer for his crimes as well, it was the least she could offer to Alistair after everything the once Hero of River Dane had caused him to suffer through. Duncan had been his only **real** family, and Loghain had ended the man as surely as if he held the blade in the palm of his hand.

Alistair glanced at her again, wondering what was running through her mind and she tried to give him a reassuring look – unable to be sure it was communicated through the dark fabric of the cloth that covered her face.

"The Blight is why I'm here, Loghain." Eamon replied, passing a quick glance to Alistair. "With Cailan dead, Ferelden must have a King to lead it against the darkspawn."

"Ferelden **has** a strong leader, in its Queen!" Loghain insisted, tilting up his chin. "And **I** lead her armies."

"Considering Ostagar, perhaps we need a **better** general." Elissa muttered, ignoring the glare from Alistair when all attention suddenly turned in her direction.

"And who is **this**, Eamon?" Loghain asked, watching the svelte figure move out from behind Alistair's protective shadow. "Some new **stray** you picked up on the road. And here I thought you only played nursemaid to **royal** bastards."

"Well, you're admitting the _royal_ part." Alistair chuckled dryly, shifting anxiously on his feet as Elissa drifted further into the group. "That's a start."

"Honestly though, who are you that would dare to speak such garbage to your superiors?" Loghain hissed, stepping forward to the heavily disguised figure in front of him and thinking how familiar the eyes looked.

"**I** am Elissa Cousland," she said, removing her cowl slowly and clutching it in angry fingers – watching as Loghain and his entire party's eyes grew wide. "Teyrna of Highever."

"Silly child." Howe chuckled, striding forward to stand at her side – smiling as he reached over to stroke a finger down her cheek. "The Couslands are dead. The teyrn of Highever belongs to the Howes, and rightfully so."

"Only until all the Howes are **dead**." Elissa hissed, snatching his finger up in her nimble fingers and twisting it around until he groaned at the pain of it – though he continued to smile regardless.

"You are either very bold or **very** stupid to threaten the Teyrn before witnesses." Loghain's guard said, striding forward to hold a dagger at Elissa's throat until she released Howe's finger.

"Enough, Cauthrien, this is not the time or place." Loghain grumbled, his voice forcing the woman to back away leaving Elissa smirking at her from across Loghain's shoulder. "I had hoped to talk you down from this course, Eamon." Loghain continued, pulling his eyes away from the hateful stares passing between Elissa and Rendon Howe and turning back to the powerful Arl of Redcliffe. "Our people are frightened. Our King is dead. Our land is under siege."

"You say all of these things as though you are not responsible for them." Elissa snorted, rolling her eyes.

"**I was not talking to you.**" Loghain hissed, stepping forward and glaring down at the young Warden, wondering how it was that she had managed to ensnare so many with so little effort.

Certainly she was beautiful, but many beautiful women failed to inspire loyalty in the hearts of men. His daughter, sadly, was one such example.

"You may not have been speaking to her, Loghain, but the Lady Cousland is correct." Eamon said, pulling the Teyrn's focus back onto him. "I cannot forgive what you have done. Perhaps the Maker can, but not I."

"The people of Ferelden **deserve** the best that we can give them. They **deserve** strength and honor." Elissa said, and Alistair could feel his body tensing up – hoping that she wasn't about to say what he thought she was. "Alistair will be the one to lead us to victory during this Blight, **not** Anora, and **certainly** not you!"

"Do not forget, **little girl**, that the Emperor of Orlais also thought that I could not bring him down." Loghain growled, stepping forward to menace her one last time.

"I forget nothing, traitor." Elissa hissed, tilting her head just enough to spit in his face though she never released his eyes.

"You will regret that." Loghain assured her, taking the handkerchief that Cauthrien offered him and wiping his face before turning to stride from the hall.

Howe lingered a moment longer, looking at Elissa with a smoldering glare full of both hatred and longing. When Loghain bellowed for him from outside the doors, he finally turned away – but not before tossing one last wink to Elissa.

"So much for not making our presence known." Alistair muttered, trying to add some brevity to the situation – but failing miserably, left to watch as Elissa ran hastily from the room and disappeared down the hall.


	41. Chapter 41: From the Journal of Nathanie

_**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** Short one, but the next one is a beast and will bring Elissa face to face with Rendon Howe once again, so I hope you'll find this short one acceptable in the meantime :)_

_Thanks to my readers, followers and reviewers and to my wonderful Lady Beta, **artemiskat**!_

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Forty-One: From the Journal of Nathaniel Howe<strong>_

_Elissa,_

_Desperation has forced me to make a decision that may very well lead to my demise. I spent weeks tracking my father's every move and attempting to find a time when he was not so heavily guarded. It took very nearly being discovered simply following along behind him before I finally realized that I was never going to get the chance to get him alone - or even with few enough guards for me to render unconscious before being discovered. _

_His paranoia has reached a level even I thought was impossible and he goes nowhere without at least a half-dozen well armed men. He sleeps with an assassin in his room and another two outside the door. There were simply no other options for me, and I did try to find them - I hope you can see that._

_As I write you this letter, I do so from my bunk on the inside of Denerim Estates, which in itself requires explanation. You see, Loghain has made my father the Arl of Denerim. What happened to the Kendalls, I cannot say. Some of the guards seem to think they were all slaughtered when Loghain took the castle, but I've heard rumor that Vaughn is being held somewhere in the prison below. I can hear you cursing now at that stain of a man's ability to survive when the rest of his family did not. I would be lying if I said that part of me did not wish the guards to be wrong and hope that he was killed along with the rest of his kin._

_I have still been unable to get close enough to my father to initiate a conversation with him in any place where I would feel safe from the many eyes that are always watching. New guards are assigned to menial tasks usually on the outer perimeter or battlements of the estate. It seems that Father is smart enough not to trust just anyone at his side after all. After meeting the initial group of guardsmen with whom I was trained, I would not have thought this to be the case. The character of these men is… questionable, to say the least. I am starting to wonder if my father does not recruit directly from Fort Drakon itself._

_I know this is a risk I take, and I know that were you here you would never let me hear the end of it – but I must do this, Elissa. I cannot go on not knowing what happened to you, not knowing if you are out there somewhere alone and looking for me. _

_This may very well be the last time I am able to write to you. Being here has forced me to face the very real possibility that I may be killed for making this foolish attempt to have one final conversation with my father before I lay you to rest. If that turns out to be the case, know that I have always loved you – and that everything I have done, has been for you._

_Yours always,_

_Nathaniel_


	42. Chapter 42: Beauty and the Beast

_**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** And here we are, the final confrontation between Elissa and her arch-nemesis Rendon Howe. I only hope that I managed to do it justice._

_Thanks to all my readers, followers and reviewers and to my Lady Beta **artemiskat**._

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Forty-Two: Beauty and the Beast<strong>_

When Alistair made it back to their room, Elissa was crouched over the chamber pot vomiting up whatever it was she had managed to eat throughout the day. He lowered himself to the floor beside her and rubbed at her back, waiting for the convulsions to ease. When they had passed, she leaned back against the wall, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand – still shaking with sickness and fury.

"**Don't** say it," she groaned, pressing her hand to her forehead and banging the back of her head against the wall – causing Alistair to flinch in response to the audible thud of her skull against stone.

"Don't say what?" he asked, reaching out to squeeze her calf and offer whatever reassurance his touch would bring.

"That I should have stayed hidden. That I lost my temper and I blew it." Elissa replied, opening her eyes and meeting his for the first time since he'd entered the room.

"I wasn't going to say that at all." Alistair assured her, watching her face twitch and her eyes roll as though she thought he was lying. "Sure, it would have been easier had Howe not been certain that you were here… but like I said, when Eamon made it known he planned to put me on the throne – he may as well have put up a great big sign that said _Wardens Here_ outside the estate walls." He smiled when she chuckled a little bit in response. "I think, all and all, you did very well. I half expected you to rip the bastard's finger right off when he started stroking your cheek."

"Ugh…" she said, turning green and frantically scrambling back toward the chamber pot before she began to retch again.

"Sorry… I, uh… probably shouldn't have mentioned that again…" he said sheepishly, mussing his hair as she righted herself again. "Was he always… like that?"

"You mean a horrific lecher? **No**… that particular characteristic was usually restricted to his youngest son, Thomas." Elissa replied, remembering the night he had very nearly raped her on the dirty floor of the Howe family stables. "Rendon was always a bit of an ass, cruel to his children and his wife and just, I don't know... a bit… **off**… in my personal opinion, but he never showed any special **attention** toward me, at least not that I knew of. Nathaniel would have lost it if he'd known. He was angry enough about his brother…"

Her eyes grew distant at the mention of Howe's eldest son's name, and Alistair knew that she was somewhere far away again – lost in the memories of a life long gone and a man equally beyond her reach.

"If you're alright, Eamon has requested our presence in his study." Alistair said, watching her eyes flutter back to him as she came back from wherever it was she had gone and trying to appear as though he was not affected by it. "I imagine we're going to get the _what were you thinking_ speech he was prevented from giving upon Loghain's arrival."

"I'd wager you're right," she sighed, taking the hands he offered her and allowing him to pull her to her feet – wrapping her arm around his waist and snuggling into his shoulder as they headed toward his uncle's study. "Let's go and hear it then."

* * *

><p>"There you are." Eamon said, watching his nephew enter with his arm wrapped around his fellow Warden through the slits of his narrowed eyes, barely even attempting to disguise his annoyance at their earlier behavior. "I trust you found your lodging needs met to your usual high standards."<p>

"Yes, our **usual** high standards of ouch there's a rock in my back, don't bring mud in the tent?" Alistair quipped, hoping to relieve some of the tension that already hung heavy in the air. "Honestly, Uncle, having a roof over our heads and something other than the ground to lie on is a vast improvement to where we usually sleep these days."

"I suggest that you enjoy it then." Eamon replied, no humor in his voice as he glared daggers at his nephew, wishing that just for once the boy would understand how serious the situation was and stop with his foolish jokes. "This is likely to be your last rest for a while, especially after that stunt you pulled today."

"That stunt? Since when is…" Alistair retorted, continuing to yell even though Eamon was talking right over top of him.

They were both so caught up in their arguing, that neither one of them noticed Elissa's silence, nor that she had focused on the other woman in the room – the one she vaguely recognized.

"Who are you?" Elissa said suddenly, moving away from Alistair's side and creeping forward with her fingers trailing over the tip of her dagger hilt – drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "You seem familiar to me… and not in a good way."

"I am, Erlina, Queen Anora's handmaiden," the woman replied, her dark eyes narrowed on Elissa and showing an equal amount of recognition and distrust. "She sent me here to ask for your help."

"Anora sent you to ask for help! Ha!" Elissa laughed humorlessly, pacing around the woman and pulling out her dagger though she made no motion that indicated she intended to use it at the moment "Speak quickly, woman. Tell me why I shouldn't return you to your Queen or her father in pieces."

"Elissa…" Alistair said, reaching out a hand to try to calm her – but retracting it just as fast when she glared angrily in his direction.

"We cannot afford to trust **anyone**, Alistair." Elissa insisted, ignoring his silent plea for her to calm her raging temper. "Least of all one of Loghain's people."

"I am here for Loghain's daughter, **not** for Loghain." Erlina insisted, ignoring Elissa's assertions and attitude as best she could. "Their interests are not so similar as they once were."

"Meaning, Loghain wants the throne – or possibly Howe wants it – and Anora doesn't want to give it up now that Cailan has been... **removed** from it." Elissa retorted with a snort. "I'd imagine that's pretty close to the actual truth of the matter, is it not?"

"The Queen is in a difficult position… she loved her husband." Erlina continued, turning her eyes to Eamon and Alistair in appeal as it was becoming apparent that Elissa would be unlikely to offer the aid she came in search of. "She trusted her father to protect him, but he returns with no King in a maelstrom of dark rumors and so she does not know what to think."

"If the Queen was so very concerned, then why has she done nothing but sit idle and allow her father and his cronies to turn Ferelden into their own personal battlefield?" Elissa asked, pacing closer to the woman in frustration.

"She tried to speak with her father, on several occasions, to this I can attest." Erlina insisted, furious that she was not being heard. "Each time he tells her not to worry herself, that things are being taken care of."

"Anora is** many t**hings, but she is no push over." Elissa snorted, shaking her head and pointing the tip of her dagger in the woman's direction. "I don't believe for a moment that she couldn't have had any answers she sought if she'd truly desired to have them. More to the point, I've **yet** to hear where needing our help comes in – and I believe I was **crystal** clear about you needing to get to that point quickly."

"The Queen, she has gone to see Howe. She tells him that a visit from the Queen is a traditional courtesy, so that he will not be suspicious… but then she demands from him answers." Erlina explained, and they began to hear the tremor in her voice that showed how much she feared for her mistress.

"Why would she do that? Howe is a lunatic!" Alistair spat, sharing a worried look with Eamon and watching as Elissa only shrugged and rolled her eyes in response to this revelation.

"She tells Howe that she **knows** he is behind Cailan's death… behind all of it." Erlina continues, and Elissa can hear Alistair pull in a long breath at the stupidity of that mistake. "The Arl, h-he responds by calling her every sort of name, traitor being the kindest of them, and then locks her in a guest room."

"Wait, so you're saying that Howe is holding The Queen **hostage** in her own capital?" Alistair asked, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Loghain w-would allow this?"

"The Reagent claimed that King Cailan was like a son to him, and yet he left that same man to die." Erlina offered, her face fully consumed by worry at this point. "Does he love Anora more, who can say? But I believe that her life is in danger. I heard Howe say that she would be a better ally dead than alive, especially if her death could be pinned on Arl Eamon or the Grey Wardens who ally with him."

"Give me one reason I should believe this crazy story." Elissa said, turning the attention of the room back to her as she remained the only one not completely drawn in by the handmaiden's tortured tale. "Every single cell of my body is screaming out to me that this is a trap – some new scheme of Howe's to draw me in now that he knows for certain that I live and where I am. If I am to risk my life, or the lives of my friends – then give me **one** reason why I should ignore my gut and take your word that what you say is true. And it had better be a good one."

"Because it is clear you do not want Loghain ruling Ferelden, and if Anora speaks at the Landsmeet, her voice would sway many nobles." Erlina offered, her face falling when Elissa snorted and walked away shaking her head forcing the handmaiden to realize that wasn't going to be nearly enough to convince the other woman of anything.

"We may have no choice but to trust Anora, Lady Cousland." Eamon interrupted, earning a glare when he chose, once again, to ignore Elissa's wishes to never be called by that name. "Regardless of your personal feelings toward her, the Queen is well-loved, and if Howe did decide to kill her and then succeeded in pinning her death on either of us… well, I'm not sure that is a risk we can afford to take."

"I'm sorry, Eamon… I just don't see how we can trust her." Elissa insisted, shaking her head and throwing up her hands in frustration. "This all seems too much like a setup to me."

"I am certain that this is a setup, but that doesn't matter because we are already caught in it."Eamon replied, watching her turn to him with curious eyes as she laced her fingers behind her head. "If Howe has Anora, then he can kill her at any time – whether we choose to act or not. After that, it is as simple as pinning the blame wherever he desired. Few would believe our word over Loghain's – especially not when a majority of the country already believes that the Wardens are responsible for the slaughter at Ostagar."

"He's right, Elissa." Alistair insisted, hating the very idea of walking her right into Howe's hands, but not seeing that they had any other option. "We have to get Anora back. We have no other choice."

"I assume you've come here with some sort of plan then." Elissa huffed, sheathing her dagger and turning to the handmaiden when she realized she was going to be overruled this time, no matter what she said. "Anora **always** has a plan."

"I have stolen some uniforms from the estate. Arl Howe hires many new guards each day, so a few more will not cause a stir." Erlina explained, reaching for the bag she had brought with her and handing it over to Alistair. "I can get you in through the servants' entrance. We must get in and out with my Queen before anyone notices. I will go ahead to Howe's estate. Meet me there as soon as you can."

"I cannot stress to you how much I **hate** this idea." Elissa hissed, watching the woman's back with angry eyes as she swiftly exited Eamon's study and rushed down the hall.

"You wanted your shot at Howe, my Lady." Eamon said, his voice almost smug – though he was smart enough to at least attempt to hide it. "I would think Erlina just handed you exactly what you wished for."

"Wanted my shot at him, yes, certainly – but on **my** terms… not his." Elissa replied, reaching up to thread her fingers through her hair and messing it up in the process. "I've followed through with a lot of plans that were utter insanity, I even came up with a majority of them myself, but **this**…" she shook her head, letting out an exasperated breath, "Howe is not keeping Anora because he intends to kill her. He is holding her as bait, because he knows that we will be forced to come for her – and that will put me in **his** hands on **his** terms. Trust me when I say that I am in an **intimate** position to know just how dangerous that position is to be in."

* * *

><p>Her eyes were haunted as she strode from the room, heading out into the estate to soothe her nerves and gather her companions so that she could choose the group best for the task. When Alistair caught up with her, she was standing in their bedroom with the four suits of stolen armor spread out on the bed.<p>

Alistair watched her carefully as she explained Erlina's plan to the group, most of whom – like her – believed it was a poorly disguised lure and one best avoided, yet, here they stood – deciding which of them to sacrifice on what was very likely to be a one way trip.

Once her choices had been made, she handed out the uniforms – dismissing everyone who was not going and requesting that those who had change quickly and meet her at the front gate.

"Sten, I know you want to go but… the uniforms simply won't fit you!" Elissa insisted, trying to explain to the qunari one last time why he had not been included in the group she had ultimately decided on. "I'm sorry… but you're going to have to stay behind."

The qunari stalked off after that, muttering under his breath in his language what Alistair was certain to be a string of curses.

"I'm surprised you didn't opt to leave me behind." Alistair said, picking up his uniform and starting to put it on.

"You would have allowed such a thing?" Elissa snorted, removing her cat burglar leathers and replacing them with the bits of the stolen uniform.

"Absolutely not." Alistair replied, chuckling as he worked the buckles on the slightly too small suit that Elissa had given him.

"Then what was the point in not including you?" Elissa replied, shrugging her shoulders and looking mournfully at the Howe crest marking the front of her chest plate, praying she wouldn't vomit again. "I still think that taking Wynne is a bad idea. It would be more useful to have Leliana or Morrigan to work in conjunction with Zevran."

"And I think it's a decidedly bad idea to walk into a trap **without** your primary healer." Alistair responded, walking over to her once he had gotten all of his pieces secured as best he could and pulling her into his arms. "Are you ready for this?"

"Yes and no." Elissa answered, pulling in a long breath and then letting it back out slowly. "It's hard to imagine that in a handful of moments this whole thing… it could all be over, one way or another."

Alistair started to respond, to offer her some words of comfort or encouragement – but he knew they would just be empty assurances in light of what they were about to do, and so he settled for kissing her thoroughly and then moving them out the door.

* * *

><p>When they caught up with Erlina, she was hiding behind some bushes in the alleyway that lead to the front gates of the Denerim Estate. A massive crowd of people was gathered outside the gates, barely being repelled by the few guards stationed there. Elissa could hear their angry voices carrying back to them where they crouched down beside the handmaiden.<p>

"The servants' entrance we spoke of is on the other side of the house." Erlina whispered, looking nervously at the large group gathered just ahead of them. "We must slip past this crowd in order to reach it. Be **very** careful. I have received confirmation that Howe is indeed inside."

"Good, it is long past time for he and I to speak of… certain things." Elissa answered, staring ahead of the group, lost in her own thoughts.

"Wherever he goes, a great many guards go with him." Erlina insisted, her words frantic. "I **beg** you, do not put my Lady in danger for your revenge! We must get her out first. What you do with your own life afterward is no longer my concern."

"Do not forget that it is **you** who needs my help, not the other way around." Elissa hissed, leaning in close to the elf's face. "I have as much interest in rescuing your **Lady** as I do in taking up permanent residence in the Deep Roads. I am here for **one** reason, and one reason only – to **end** Rendon Howe. That my agenda happens to run parallel to yours is purely a coincidence, so do not imagine for a moment that you are the one giving the orders here."

"Ladies, ladies." Zevran said, trying to use his considerable charm to calm the women on either side of him - pressing them apart lightly with his hands. "Let us save the arguing for another time. If we do not take advantage of this distraction and move inside, then neither of you will see their cause fulfilled, no?"

Elissa pulled on her helm in silence, watching the others do the same before moving out behind Erlina in the direction of the servants' entrance. As they passed the gate, it was easy to hear what the men outside it were bellowing about. Apparently, Howe had decided to build additions to the original estate and now that the work was finished, was reluctant to pay the craftsmen for their wares or their work.

"Those craftsmen keep talking about additions, but I can't see any new builds on the estate grounds." Alistair whispered, and Elissa watched his amber eyes dart around through the narrow gap in his helm.

"If I know Howe, he's most likely building down." Elissa responded, thinking back to her years of exploring the grounds of his home in Vigil's Keep. "His estate in Amaranthine seemed small on the surface, but it went down for quite some distance underneath."

"That thought is **decidedly** more disturbing than it should be." Alistair replied, and she could see him shiver involuntarily.

"I suppose I stopped being disturbed by what Rendon Howe was capable of a long time ago" Elissa answered with a shrug.

Ahead of them, Erlina had come to a stop behind another row of bushes and Elissa could make out the bodies of two guards stationed beside her entry door.

"If you are done chatting, I will go and distract the guards so that you may enter." Erlina said, the muscles in her jaw flexing in irritation that they were not taking her advice to move in silence seriously.

"Why are we wearing these ridiculous uniforms if they won't even get us inside?" Elissa hissed, glaring at the woman through the eye slot in the helm angrily.

"Those two men are of higher quality than the vast majority of Howe's guardsmen. They **know** who is allowed to come and go, and will not be fooled by your disguises." Erlina explained, glancing back at them again. "Once we are inside, the uniform will fool most we encounter, so long as you remain _quiet_ in your travels."

Elissa made a lurching motion toward the woman in anger, but Alistair moved quickly to hold her back – tilting his head to send the handmaiden to do whatever it was she had planned to lure the men away. Once they moved off into the courtyard and out of sight, Elissa pulled out of his grasp and led them forward – quickly ducking inside the door and waiting for Erlina to return inside the small lobby.

* * *

><p>It took nearly twenty minutes for her to return, and Alistair had to repeatedly convince Elissa <strong>not<strong> to just go wandering about the castle without her. He thought that he had never been so relieved to see someone as he was when the elven maid finally came through the door behind them.

"Ech, it took me forever to be rid of those two." Erlina hissed, leaning back against the door in frustration and muttering in Orlesian.

"We've lingered here too long already." Zevran insisted, peering out the archway again. "The servants inside are starting to become suspicious."

"Agreed, where is Anora?" Elissa inquired, tapping her foot impatiently.

"She is in a guest room off the main hall." Erlina explained, watching the movements of the servants inside with a cautious eye. "Most of the guards inside the main floor are new and will not know you for a stranger at first glance, but we must be careful and not linger anywhere for too long. Let's go."

The group passed through the kitchens with only a few curious glances from the elven staff there. Elissa had to imagine that they had bigger worries than a handful of guardsmen and an apparent servant choosing to cut through their work area on their way to wherever they were going.

The dining hall was a different story. Guardsmen swarmed the long hall, milling about the tables and in and out of the many doorways with trays of food. Their chatter was loud and distracting as they made their way slowly through the crowd trying not to call attention to themselves. They had nearly made it out, giving Alistair a chance to breathe easier – when he saw Elissa turn back into the room behind the two men who had just entered from the corner of his eye.

"Where is she going!" Erlina hissed at him, glaring out into the dining hall where she had retreated.

He started to go after her, but stopped when Zevran waved a hand indicating that he would take care of it. The assassin returned a moment later, gripping the arms of an extremely agitated Elissa – her furious eyes glaring out of her helm at him before she yanked herself free of his hands and stalked off toward Erlina and Wynne, leaving the two men behind.

"What was that about?" Alistair asked, watching her fume from afar. "Did she know those men?"

"No, but they were speaking of their… _participation_ in the slaughter at Highever before being reassigned here." Zevran explained, falling into place at Alistair's side and sharing a pained look with the Templar. "She was understandably anxious to… **speak** with them."

"Yes… I imagine there are a great many men here she would like to **speak** with." Alistair cringed, trailing back with the elf as they made their way to the room where the Queen was being held prisoner and saying a hasty prayer to the Maker that Elissa would be able to hold it together for just a little while longer - and that they would somehow manage to escape without encountering Rendon Howe regardless of her wishes to face him.

* * *

><p>"The Grey Wardens are here, my Lady." Erlina muttered through the door, leaning close to the wood so that her voice would carry though she kept it low enough not to attract attention from passing guards.<p>

"Thank the Maker!" Anora hissed through the door, and Elissa could hear her shuffle closer to it. "I would greet you properly, Wardens, but I'm afraid we've had an additional setback."

"How do I know you're **really** Queen Anora?" Elissa said, leaning back casually against the door frame and eying the door through her helm as she tapped the fingers of her gauntlets together.

"How would you like me to answer that?" Anora replied, exasperation toning her voice into an annoyed hiss. "Shall I try to shove my crown under the door? Perhaps use the royal family's secret knock?"

"Do… do they have one of those?" Alistair whispered, curious and amused.

"Yep, **definitely** Anora." Elissa chuckled, shaking her head at Alistair. "No one can sound so irritated and yet so refined all at one time."

"Wait… your voice, I **know** that voice…" Anora hissed, and Elissa smiled – imagining the look that was passing across the woman's face at this very moment as she realized just who it was she had called upon after falling victim to her own stupidity. "Elissa Cousland, is that… is that **you**?"

"In the flesh." Elissa replied, her face fully consumed in her exceptionally amused grin that, sadly, no one could see through her helm.

"Well isn't that just…" Anora sighed heavily, and Elissa could hear her pace away and then back. "I'm surprised **you** even came."

"I very nearly didn't." Elissa replied honestly. "But we're wasting time, we can have our touching reunion later… let's hear about these complications of yours."

"My _host_ was not content to simply leave me here with heavy guard." Anora explained, laying her head against the wood in frustration. "He's had one of his mages seal the door with magic."

"You didn't think it was important to mention this **before** we got here?" Elissa hissed, glaring at the handmaiden again and moving to the side so that Wynne could inspect the seal and offer any suggestions as to its removal.

"I did not know!" Erlina replied, winding her hands together with worry. "There were only guards here when I left."

"Anything?" Elissa asked, turning her eyes from the handmaiden to her companion.

"The seal has been wrought with blood magic." Wynne explained, stepping away with a sigh. "It cannot be broken except by the one who sealed it, or with their death."

"Please, Warden, we must get her out of here!" Erlina moaned, becoming more and more upset the longer they lingered.

"Don't panic, Erlina!" Anora and Elissa said together with a symphony of irritation that forced everyone in the group to laugh just a little, in spite of their rapidly worsening situation.

"Find the mage who cast the spell." Anora insisted, as though Elissa didn't already **know** what she had to do. "He will be at Howe's side. His rooms are at the end of the hall on the left."

"I doubt he's just going to open his doors for me, Anora." Elissa replied, with a roll of her eyes. "The man may have set this up as a trap to catch me, but he's neither stupid nor suicidal enough to simply **allow** me to walk into his room."

"And I doubt you have any aversions to whatever it is you'll have to do to get inside them regardless of that fact." Anora retorted, her patience thinning quickly. "If Howe doesn't already know you're here, he's bound to know when you find him. What difference does it matter if he discovers you now or later?"

"Fine." Elissa sighed, pushing herself upright again. "I'm leaving your handmaiden to keep you company, _Your Highness_. When the barrier falls, do **not** leave this room! We will return for you once we've accomplished our task."

"Elissa!" Anora cried out, forcing the young woman to turn back to the door again.

"What?" Elissa replied, anxious to be on her way.

"T-thank you." Anora said, just loud enough for them to hear – as though she could barely force herself to utter the words.

"Thank me when I return." Elissa said, turning away and moving her company briskly down the hall.

* * *

><p>After a brief stop to loot every single sovereign from his vast treasury, Elissa found herself standing outside the door to Rendon Howe's personal quarters.<p>

"I can hear nothing that makes me think anyone is inside." Zevran said, pulling away from the door to pick the lock and let them in.

As he said, the room was empty – an open door across the way being the most likely exit point. There was a suspiciously large chest near it that Zevran picked open in the hopes of finding something else of value.

"Anything good?" Elissa asked, glancing over hopefully and seeing him retrieve a stack of papers.

"I'm not sure… these documents are coded and the cipher is nothing I recognize," the assassin replied, passing the documents over to her.

"Alistair." Elissa called, beckoning him over from where he stood with Wynne inspecting the books on a nearby shelf for anything of value. "These have a Warden seal on them."

"You're right." Alistair answered, flipping through them. "But whatever they are, I can't break this code."

He tucked them into his pack, watching as Elissa inspected the passage forward with a wary eye.

"There is another Warden here, Alistair… I-I can **feel** them." Elissa said, closing her eyes and reaching out through the taint to try and get a better idea of where they were.

"You're right, I feel it too." Alistair replied, moving to her side. "How is that possible? They were all killed at Ostagar…"

"Clearly they weren't." Elissa replied, continuing to look down the descending hallway.

"You don't think…" Alistair began, leaving the rest unsaid.

"We pulled Duncan's blades from that ogre, Alistair – you can't really see him leaving those behind." Elissa replied, holding his eyes with a shared sorrow. "I know how important he was to you, but he is gone. Whoever that is, it's not him."

"You're probably right." Alistair replied, hanging his head for a moment before following her down the long hallway.

When they emerged from the bottom door, they found themselves standing in the estate dungeon – surrounded by cells that lined each wall.

"He's… he built a passageway to the **dungeons** off his bedroom?" Alistair gaped, appalled at what he was seeing.

"Now we know what the additions were." Elissa replied, unsurprised at the depths of the man's depravity.

While they were inspecting the area, a lone guardsman came around the corner – stopping in his tracks near the door of a cell when he saw the group of them lingering by the door.

"Who are you lot?" he said, reaching for the hilt of his blade. "No one else is supposed to be here."

Elissa started to respond, but instead watched a pair of bare arms reach out of the cell and tug the guardsman hard against the bars. He struggled for a moment, attempting to call out before the dexterous hands snapped his neck and dropped him to the ground, reaching forward again to release his keys and open the cell door before dragging the man inside.

Elissa started to move forward, but Alistair stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"We don't know who that is, Elissa." Alistair insisted, listening to the prisoner removing the man's armor and taking it for his own.

"Any prisoner of Howe's is likely an ally to us." Elissa replied, reaching over to pat his hand. "If we can trust Anora, then we can trust them."

She started to move toward the cell, but stopped when the man inside finally emerged – stumbling back against Alistair's chest and feeling her knees very nearly buckle, forcing him to wrap an arm around her waist simply to keep her upright.

"I thank you for creating such distraction, stranger," the man said, his lilting Orlesian accent one of the few things that shattered the illusion he created in Elissa's eyes when he strode over to them from his cell. "I have been waiting weeks for this opportunity."

She stumbled out of Alistair's grasp and pulled loose her helm, tucking it under her arm as she inspected him fully. It was uncanny how much this man resembled Nathaniel Howe, and it shook her more than she thought possible.

"You are… **not** what I expected," the man chuckled, inspecting her with a smile and wondering why she seemed so entranced by him, if not a bit upset – noting that her companions were removing their helm's around her. "Do you think you could… Alistair? Is that you?"

"I know you… you were at my Joining." Alistair replied, stepping forward and watching Elissa continue to stare at the man as though hypnotized. "He's one of us, Elissa. A Warden from Orlais. Jader, I think… or was it Montsimmard? I'm afraid I don't remember your name."

"I'm Riordan, senior Warden of Jader," the man replied, bowing lightly to the group. "But I was born and bred in Highever, and I am glad to be home…" He focused on Elissa again, though she still had not spoken. "I'm sorry… are you? The Lady Cousland?"

"I was." Elissa answered, her eyes still distant – as though she was trying to focus on the man who stood in front of her but was finding it difficult to do so. "I am no longer. It's just Elissa now."

"Then I must offer my condolences to you, dear Lady." Riordan said, reaching over to take her hand between his own. "I heard about what happened at Castle Cousland. It was… a tragedy. Your father was a good man."

"Yes, he was…" Elissa replied, tugging her hand away from him as though burned by his touch and moving away several steps, trying to calm her racing heartbeat.

"What are you doing here?" Alistair asked, his eyes following the senior Warden's over to Elissa and trying to puzzle out her odd reaction to him in much the same way he was.

"For the most part, attempting to hold my tongue. I was sent from Orlais when we received no word from King Cailan as to the outcome of Ostagar." Riordan explained, watching as Elissa moved to the back wall to converse with the assassin as far away from him as she could get without leaving the safety of the room. "The King invited all the Wardens of Orlais and their support troops to join him, then… nothing."

"Then how were you captured **here**, in Denerim?" Alistair asked, confused as to how a man who clearly possessed enormous skill had managed to become locked in Howe's basement.

"With the offer of hospitality and a poisoned chalice." Riordan snorted, shaking his head with a bemused smile. "I was foolish enough to think that Loghain did not yet know who I was and accepted a dinner invitation. I woke up sometime later here in Howe's holding pens minus my armor, weapons, and all my belongings."

Further discussion with the man revealed that the encrypted documents did indeed belong to him and contained a list of the deceased Wardens from Ostagar as well as a detailed explanation of the Joining ritual – the whole of which Riordan promised to cover with them once they escaped from the Denerim Estate.

"Do you know where Howe went?" Alistair asked, eying Elissa cautiously and noticing that she was becoming increasingly anxious to move forward though she had said nothing to him or to Riordan, lingering in the back corner with the elf and refusing to approach so long as the senior Warden remained in their company.

"I saw him go into the dungeons not long ago, he's probably still in there." Riordan said, his fingers passing over a half healed gash on his neck. "The man has an unnatural penchant for torture."

"That is… not surprising." Alistair whispered, rubbing at his brow. "Come with us. We can't go back to Eamon's estate until we've gotten what we came for, and you'll be safer traveling with us. There are quite a few guardsmen on the upper floors."

"I wouldn't be much use to you in my current condition. Too long without proper food and water has left me weak, and made the recovery from my… war wounds, more lengthy than it should have been." Riordan said, shaking his head then looking back to Elissa where Alistair's eyes had already strayed. "Watch her carefully, brother. Howe is singularly obsessed with her capture and… just, **watch** her. Never let her out of your sight."

"You can rest assured that **all** of us will be watching her." Alistair replied, shaking the man's hand one more time before sending him off out of the Estate.

* * *

><p>Elissa had shaken off Alistair's concern at her unnaturally odd reaction to the newly found Warden with a passing response that he simply reminded her of someone she hadn't thought to see again. It was nothing in her words, but rather something in the tone of them – something shadowing her eyes – that told Alistair of whom Riordan reminded her, and with that knowledge – though he felt guilty about it, he found himself almost hoping that the other Warden would not make it back to Eamon's estate, if only to spare Elissa from having to see him again.<p>

The further they moved into the depths of Howe's nightmare, the more withdrawn Elissa became. They passed through layer after layer of torture chambers and prison cells – releasing several prisoners along the way, including another childhood friend of Elissa's who had been moments from dying at the hands of the man working the rack to which he was tied.

It was at this point that Elissa truly lost all sense of composure, refusing to put her helm back on and killing every guard they came across indiscriminately. The closer they came to Howe, the more unbalanced she became – as though she could sense his presence in the air. When she barreled through the doorway to the final series of rooms, Alistair was not surprised to find the man standing there in front of them, flanked by his mages and smiling at her in the unsettling manner that only Howe could muster.

"Well, well, well…" Howe chuckled, tugging his gloves on as he circled closer to her. "If it isn't Bryce Cousland's little spitfire." He circled around behind her, running his eyes the length of her body in appreciation. "All grown up and **still** playing the man. I never thought you'd be fool enough to turn up here after how long you've managed to evade my grasp… but then, I never thought you'd escape me at Castle Cousland either."

"I am happy to disappoint you again." Elissa hissed, her voice low and unnervingly calm to Alistair's ears. Her eyes glittered with malice as they followed him in his vigil around her body. "It will be the **last** time that I do, so you should enjoy this moment."

"Is this where I cower in fear? Or perhaps lament this **new** monster that I helped create?" Howe laughed, the sound of it enough to bring chills to the skin of everyone in the room. "Dear girl, you are still so very new to this… but I can **show** you, if you'd like…" He reached up then, trailing his fingers down her jaw line and over the collar of her armor down to the swell of her breasts. "I can teach you to savor the moment, properly."

"You have touched me for the **last** time." Elissa hissed, stepping back from him and pulling free her swords – kicking out her leg with a swift fluidity that caught the man off guard and sent him flailing back into the arms of one of the mages.

"Such spirit." Howe responded, righting himself and drawing out his own swords. "I can see that I am going to enjoy this even more than I enjoyed what I did to your mother, and I did not think that possible."

The room erupted into chaos then, the mages springing to action and several previously hidden rogues emerging from side passages in the chamber. Alistair watched as Elissa became separated from her companions – pressing forward on Howe at the rear of the area. There was nothing he could do to stop her locked in battle as he was, and he knew that any attempt to stop her with his cries would either be lost beneath the noise of battle or fall on deaf ears. She was a creature of pure vengeance now, lost to anything but her fury and now completely gone from his sight.

"Do you want to know what it was?" Howe asked, knocking her sword back once again as she tried to thrust it forward and sliding out the back door of the entry chamber and into the room beyond. "The thing that your father saw before the last of his life bled out onto the dirt floor of your larder?"

Elissa did not reply, angrily trying to force down the tears that welled up in her eyes with the memories of that night. She swung at him again, dipping to the side when he made a swipe back in her direction and darting behind a nearby pillar in the much more spacious room he had drawn her into. The sounds of her companions and the company of Howe's men that they engaged had fallen to the background and she wondered somewhere in the back of her mind if they were alright.

"Your mother begged for their lives in the end, begged for a healer for her darling Bryce, begged me on her knees!" Howe sneered, laughing as a sob made it from within Elissa's clinched lips before she swung at him again, her anger making her sloppy enough for him to land a blow on her forearm causing her to back off and squeeze at the wound to staunch the blood flow. "The last thing your father saw was his perfect wife performing the **services** I had made her think would spare their lives, right before I ran her through with my sword – of course…"

"You are a **monster**!" Elissa screamed, hurling blow after blow at the man with her swords – but he easily blocked them. He was calm and she was out of control, furious and tormented by his words.

"As are you, my darling, as are you." Howe replied, pinning her arms against the wall for a moment and leaning in close. "We make a perfect pair now, wouldn't you agree."

Elissa thought she might vomit, when his lips lingered so close to her – bringing up a knee to his crotch, which he deflected with an arm backing out of her range once again.

"Thomas tried to claim me for the same reasons, years ago – though he swore you bid him do so." Elissa hissed, circling around him – dipping to the side when he swung at her again. "Nathaniel refused to believe it, blamed it all on Thomas… but I **knew**, I knew even then what you were capable of."

"Nathaniel refused to believe a great many things, unfortunately for him." Howe snorted, disgust crossing his face at the mention of his eldest son. "Including my reports of your death."

"You told him I was dead!" Elissa yelled, fury welling up inside her that he would do such a thing - it seemed cruel even for him.

"I did, but that did not stop him from coming here to look for you regardless of my instructions to the contrary." Howe retorted, dodging her most recent blow and leaving her hand vibrating as her blade rang against the stone wall.

"Nathaniel is… h-he **came**... here…" Elissa said, stricken and barely able to recover quickly enough to dodge most of his next swing, taking only a minor graze on her side instead of the huge gash that could have been.

"Oh… you didn't **know**? This is too good to be true, honestly!" Howe cackled, stopping in his pursuit of her long enough to lean against the wall and revel in his glee at this newly discovered knowledge. "You didn't know… you haven't found each other… **Priceless**! I couldn't have set this up better if I'd planned it myself!" The man laughed more, renewing Elissa's fury and sending her swinging wildly in his direction once again. "He is here, **now**, on the ramparts of this very building!"

"I don't believe you." Elissa insisted, trying to focus – trying not to think about him standing so near yet so far away. "You're just trying to distract me, t-to hurt me."

"Oh, I'm enjoying that, an extra **added** bonus I did not even expect – but I assure you, child, my son is indeed here in Denerim – has been for months." Howe replied, blocking her blows again. "Perhaps I'll let you see him long enough to say your goodbyes before I slit his throat."

"**You will not touch him**!" Elissa hissed, advancing again – fury completely consuming her as she realized that the only reason this monster of a man had allowed his eldest to continue to live was with the intent of using him to torture her.

"Such emotion he inspires in you even now…" Howe sneered, blocking blow after blow with equally savage swings of his own. "I wonder… do you think of him when you're fucking the future King?"

"You know **nothing** of me, nothing of what I feel – of what I'm capable." Elissa insisted, the power within her activating as she surrendered herself to the thirst for vengeance – pressing forward on Howe and watching his eyes go wide as he recognized the change in her too late.

He had taunted the beast one too many times, but his realization was too little too late as he found himself backed into a corner and relieved of his weapons, kneeling at the mercy of the furious monstrosity he had given birth with his own two hands.

"I have _waited_ for this moment." Elissa said, reaching forward to clutch his face in her hand as she pressed the point of her father's sword against his belly.

"Maker spit on you!" Howe retorted, brushing his nose against hers and waiting for the inevitable. "I deserved more!"

She shoved the blade home then, feeling the resistance as it brushed against his spine on its way out his back – rendering his lower body useless and sending him crumbling to the floor. She pulled it free, tossing it to the side and retrieving Duncan's blade – pressing the point of it to his throat as she straddled his body.

She was so lost in her blood lust, in her thirst for vengeance, that she did not notice Howe retrieve his own dagger from the floor beside them and move it up between her legs as his hand gripped her outer thigh. She only registered what was happening when he pressed the blade into the gap between her armor at the back of her knee, shoving it into the flesh and pulling it up fiercely into her inner thigh.

She screamed and dropped onto the ground beside him, clutching at the blade and pulling it free, desperately trying to stem the powerful flow of blood pouring out of the gaping wound.

"Such a beautiful sound, your screams." Howe chuckled, blood sputtering between his lips as he watched her struggling to get to her knees and drag herself back over to him. "I can die happy, now that I've heard it."

She wanted to end him, he could see it in her eyes… but his aim had been too true and the vessel he'd severed in her leg too important. She was bleeding out quickly, and losing the strength and the will to finish the job.

He smiled as her eyes closed, watching her breathing slow to a shallow trickle as she twitched restlessly on the stone beside him. He did not fight when his own lids became heavy, instead surrendering himself to the blissful emptiness of the dark.

* * *

><p>"Go, go!" Alistair yelled, encouraging Wynne and Zevran to press forward through the last two remaining rogues between them and wherever Elissa and Howe had gone.<p>

Their fight had taken too long and the room beyond them had long fallen silent. Even before he made it through the doorway far enough to see both their bodies laid out on the floor, he knew that something had gone horribly wrong.

"Elissa, no!" Alistair yelled, throwing his sword and shield to the ground and rushing to her side – drawing her body into his lap, and removing his gloves so that he could feel for a pulse… there was so much blood. "Elissa… **Elissa**… wake up for me, love. Talk to me…" There was a pulse, but it was slow and unsteady. "**Do** something Wynne! She's dying!"

The mage knelt on the ground, instructing the assassin to tie off and bandage the gaping wound in her leg as best he could manage while she provided what assistance she could with her dwindling mana pool.

"I have done what I can, Alistair… but she is very weak and my mana is gone." Wynne explained, struggling to stand even with Zevran's help. "We must get her back to Eamon's so that Morrigan and I can see to her properly or she **will** die."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Alistair said, standing with her wrapped in his arms – leaving his gloves and weaponry lying on the floor forgotten as he led them back to Anora's room. He would be thankful later to know that Zevran had retrieved his sword and shield along with Elissa's scattered belongings.

* * *

><p>The Queen at least had the good sense to look properly sorrowful when she saw the pale lifeless body of her rival cradled in Alistair's arms. He spared little time to talk, simply turning the group in the direction of the nearest exit – anxious to get away from there as quickly as possible.<p>

"Stop, Warden!" a woman's voice called out, and Alistair turned to see Loghain's personal guard, Ser Cauthrien, pointing a blade at him with a sneer – surrounded by at least two dozen of the Teyrn's men. "In the name of the regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at-arms," she said, stepping closer. "Surrender, and you may be shown mercy."

"We only came here to free the regent's daughter who was being held captive." Alistair explained, desperate for anything that would get them out of this mess and away from here – the longer they lingered, the less likely Elissa was to survive – he could feel the taint in her fading as her life bled away. "Anyone who was killed, was killed because they stood in the way of her rescue."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Cauthrien snorted, rolling her eyes. "The Queen isn't being held prisoner here or anywhere else! Her father would never stand for such a thing!"

"She's **right here**!" Alistair screamed, gesturing toward Anora with his head – his eyes wide in fear and desperation. "Anora, tell her… **tell** her what happened here!"

"Ser Cauthrien!" Anora gasped, pulling off her helm and running forward with her handmaiden at her side. "Praise the Maker you're here! This brigand tried to kidnap me!"

"You double-crossing **bitch**!" Alistair spat, taking a step forward before stopping at the point of Cauthrien's sword – his jaw tense in fury. "Elissa was right not to trust you. I should have listened to her."

"Surrender now, Warden." Cauthrien insisted, gesturing with her sword to indicate that he should kneel and watching him do so – reluctantly allowing Elissa to be pried from his arms by one of the larger guardsmen and placing his hands behind his head where they were bound with thick cord.

He watched Anora with hateful eyes just before Cauthrien struck him with a blow from behind that rendered him unconscious before handing out instructions for their delivery to Fort Drakon at Loghain's request.


	43. Chapter 43: Fathers and Sons

_**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** A little look at Rendon's end from Nathaniel's perspective, and one last parting shot from the man to Elissa and his son. I originally didn't include this chapter, but the idea of it kept tumbling around in my head as I was working on the Fort Drakon section so I finally gave in and wrote it out! I hope you all enjoy it :) _

_Thanks to my readers, followers and reviewers! I am always happy to hear what you think :) Extra thanks to my Lady Beta **artemiskat**._

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Forty-Three: Fathers and Sons<strong>_

Nathaniel sat at his post on the Denerim Estate ramparts, staring off into the setting sun and toying lazily with the silver charm beneath his armor. He knew he should probably be taking his current assignment more seriously, the Captain of his father's local forces was a little _too_ eager to punish those who did not live up to his rather high expectations, but he just couldn't find it within himself to care.

After nearly two weeks of playing the dutiful guardsman at his father's newest estate, he had still not managed to earn enough respect from the wary Captain to earn a promotion that would put him even one step closer to getting the answers he sought. There was rumor among the men that Rendon Howe would soon be moving out with Loghain to deal with the effects of the Blight, which left Nathaniel to wonder why the Wardens weren't doing their jobs. Their forces in Ferelden had been decimated at Ostagar, but the two remaining had both time and opportunity to contact the others outside the country if they so desired. It was confusing to consider the idea that they had done nothing except to focus on retaliation against his father and Loghain, which is what most of the gossip among the men seemed to lead him to believe.

Nathaniel was running out of time and he knew it. The combination of his dwindling window of opportunity and his ever more limited reserve of patience was forcing him to make irrational decisions that were out of character for a man normally so set in the patterns of caution, but the options open to him if he was to get the answers that he came for were being eliminated one by one with every passing day.

He jumped to attention when he heard the rushing of footfalls on the grounds below and listened to the fearful mutterings of a large group of men who appeared to be intent on escaping from the estate grounds.

_What's going on?_ He thought, peering over the edge and trying to hear some of the conversation before they got out of earshot. _Surely the merchants haven't launched an attack… that seems rather silly, not to mention suicidal_.

Unable to discern anything from his current position, Nathaniel abandoned his post and moved back inside the estate, taking the stairs of the guard tower two at a time in his rush to get to the main floor.

The inside of the estate was even more chaotic than the outside. Bodies of injured men were being moved into makeshift infirmaries and tended to by both staff and a handful of magi.

"What's going on here?" Nathaniel asked the nearest healer, leaning in close enough to see clearly that the man on whom she was working was not likely to survive his injuries.

"I'm not entirely sure, Ser," the mage replied, pausing to look at him for only a moment before returning to her task. "The guard captain rounded up the few mages not on assignment with the Arl and bade us heal his men, so that is what we're doing."

Seeing that he was unlikely to get anything else useful from the woman, he moved off in search of a guardsman who wasn't injured or attempting to escape from the confines of the estate grounds. He saw a man barking orders near the door and figured he was the most likely to have some information on what was happening.

"Pardon me, Ser," Nathaniel said, showing the man enough respect so as not to arouse suspicion – though something about the entire situation was building a ball of anxiety in his gut so large it was almost impossible to ignore. "Can you tell me what is going on? I've been stationed on the ramparts all day and only just made it inside to find this chaos."

"Aye, a right mess this is, that's what!" the guardsman hissed, his dark eyes flicking up and down the hall as he yelled orders and directed people where he needed them to go. "Warden's come with a few of 'er men. Don't know how she managed to get in, and don't much care at this point. She's slaughtered most of the men in the dungeons and was headed for the Arl himself last I 'eard. I'm patching these people up best I can then evacuating the estate. Maybe the Arl will deal with 'er; maybe 'e won't – either way I'm not sticking around to find myself on the pointy end of 'er blade. Howe can punish me later if 'e survives."

"T-thank you, Ser." Nathaniel said, barely managing to keep his fragile composure as he moved off down the hall in search of the passage to the lower levels. "I will go and offer my aid where it is most needed."

"Oi, guardsman!" the man yelled, turning Nathaniel back – fearful that his decision to press toward, rather than away from danger, had given him away. "If you're headed down to the dungeons, Maker be with you. She's down there and I've seen what she can do first hand mate. There's no one can save the Arl now but him if she's managed to get to him. Best to just walk away and cut your losses, you go down there… you're not coming back."

"It's a chance I have to take…" Nathaniel replied, dipping his head respectfully once more. "I owe it to my… I owe it to the Arl."

The guardsman sighed, but dipped a polite nod in reply, watching Nathaniel's back as he dashed off down the hall before turning back to his current duties.

* * *

><p>The lower he wound through the tunnels, the more obvious it became that his time had finally run out. The bodies he came across had been brutally cut into, the attacker driven by the force of a rage greater than any that Nathaniel had ever seen. He forced himself to move faster, knowing that if he didn't find his way to his father before the Warden, he was unlikely to ever speak with him again.<p>

The chambers were all deathly silent, only the sound of his footfalls and increasingly heavy breathing breaking through the wall of nothingness that seemed to hang thick in the air. Death and blood and fury were all around him, coating the floors – painting the walls. Nothing living moved inside these stone rooms, nothing save himself.

He finally ran out of rooms, stopping in the doorway of a massive dark chamber he could only assume from the stench to have once been used as some sort of mabari pen to catch his breath. With a passing glance he noted a lone prostrate form half buried in a pile of refuse in the back corner. He had checked enough corpses up to this point to know that anyone left down here was unlikely to still draw breath, and so he turned – intent on making his way back and rechecking each passage along the way. The Warden was here, or had been – the trail of bodies and blood proved that. She can't have vanished, nor could his father.

As he paced softly down the hall he heard coughing and a low groan from the room he'd just left, and spun on his heel – rushing to the body he'd dismissed as just another casualty.

"Come to save me, did you?" the man sputtered, attempting to laugh but stopping when the pain of the action caused him to cough up a large volume of blood and various other internal fluids onto the front of his armor. "Lovely thought, that, but a little too late. I'm as good as dead. Bitch saw to that."

Nathaniel could not believe it, standing there – unable to move, unable to breathe. The man lying before him was his father. He dropped to his knees finally, pulling off his gloves and reaching tentative fingers forward to inspect the gaping wound in the man's abdomen.

"I'm telling you, boy… I'm done for!" his father hissed, swatting away his hands in irritation. "Stop wasting your time here. Seek Loghain; tell him the Wardens will strike back. Tell him…" he stopped, reaching forward and grabbing the still prodding hand of his would be rescuer in an angry fist. "Did you not hear me, boy? I gave you an order! I may be dying, but I'm still in charge here and you'll do as you've been told!"

"No, Father." Nathaniel replied, watching the man's eyes go wide at the sound of his voice – and even wider as he removed his helm and tossed it to the floor at their side. "I'll not leave you like this. There are healers on the main floor, I can retrieve one… the damage is severe, but…"

"Nathaniel, of all the…" his father attempted to laugh again, with much the same results as the previous times. "It would be you to stay here in the end, wouldn't it?"

"You should really stop with the laughing." Nathaniel said mildly, pressing at the wound again as though he could somehow save the man with correctly applied pressure.

"Why? The irony of this moment is quite delightful when you think about it," his father said, chuckling again – forcing Nathaniel's eyes to flicker up to him in confusion. "That bitch may have killed me, but she also gave me the best possible gift in the end. I honestly wish I was going to live long enough to see the look on her face when she realizes it."

"Father, I-I…" Nathaniel hesitated, his instinctual knowledge of virtually his entire history with this man making it hard for him to believe that he was so genuinely happy to see him.

He forced himself to continue treating the wound, to think about anything other than the possible implications of those words. Had he finally managed to make the man proud of him? Had he finally lifted the heavy cloud of disappointment that always seemed to shroud him when it came to his father?

"Nathaniel, son… stop," his father said, with some modicum of kindness at first – but that was quickly forgone when Nathaniel did not listen. "I said **stop**!" Nathaniel snapped back at the hateful tone in his father's voice, retracting his hands as ordered and folding them in his lap like a scolded child. "You simply don't listen… never did… though, I supposed if you listened – you wouldn't **be** here at all, would you?"

Rendon Howe inspected his eldest son cautiously, feeling the last of his energy bleeding away and knowing that his time was short and that he must choose his words carefully else he would lose the opportunity to properly orchestrate this final parting gift that Elissa Cousland had unwittingly placed right in his hands.

"I am going to die, my boy… **you** are simply going to have to accept that." Howe said, reaching over to pat his hand with as much compassion as he could muster – which was little. "In light of that, I have one final request to make of you, and this time – you **must** listen."

Nathaniel didn't trust himself to speak, the emotions warring within him had swelled to their breaking point and he feared that if he opened his mouth any number of things would come pouring out. So he simply nodded.

"Good. Good…" Howe replied, grimacing through his smile. "It's up to you now, you are all that's left… my first born, my _legacy_…"

"B-but what about Thomas? Delilah?" Nathaniel whispered, brow furrowing. He'd received word from Delilah that his mother had passed shortly after he'd left for the Free Marches, but surely his siblings yet lived. Surely he'd have heard _something_ otherwise.

"You think **they** will survive her wrath if I did not?" Howe chuckled ruefully, coughing up another great spurt of blood - noting the fleeting moment of relief in Nathaniel's eyes with the knowledge that they still lived, and overjoyed to take that away from him with his next carefully chosen words. "They are as good as dead! **The Warden** intends to wipe our name from the face of Thedas.. but... she does not know where you are, and so you must use that to your advantage. Stay hidden, stay safe… and when the moment is right, **strike** and avenge your father. Avenge your family. Avenge your name."

"Father… I-I don't know if I…" Nathaniel said, shaking his head – uncertain if he could do the thing that his father was asking of him, uncertain if he wanted to.

"It is your **duty**, Nathaniel –and I **will** hear you swear it, now." Howe hissed, clutching at his wound as the final waves of pain began - reaching over to wrap his fingers tightly around his eldest son's arm and squeezing until it bruised, something he had done many times before. "My time is running short, I need to hear you say it… to hear you **swear** that you will end that vile woman who has done this to us."

"I-I…" Nathaniel faltered again, his eyes flickering down to the blood stained floor, his heart thundering in his chest.

"**Swear it!**" Howe hissed again, his breath coming slower now – broken and watery with the blood that was now filling his lungs. "Put aside your foolish notions of honor and **do** what I ask for once in your sorry excuse for a life! Do your duty to me and to your name. You **are** a Howe, Nathaniel, and in the end that is all that will matter. They will punish you for my crimes, mark my words, boy. Your only recourse is to destroy them before they can destroy you. Take back what is rightfully ours! This is my last wish. Will you deny me?"

"No, Father." Nathaniel replied, regret hanging heavy on his heart but knowing he owed it to this man – no matter what he had done, he did not deserve to die like this, bloody and alone and left in a pile of garbage. "I will do what you ask of me."

"Good boy." Howe said, patting his hand and smiling for the last time.

What Nathaniel thought was a smile of paternal pride was actually a smile of victory for what his father had managed to accomplish in his last living moments was most likely his darkest deed of all. He had convinced his son to murder the only woman he had ever loved. Once Nathaniel realized this, it would destroy him. Elissa Cousland would be dead, and his son would suffer unending torment for his transgressions, and so, even in death, Rendon Howe would have his revenge. It was with that thought that the man passed over into the flickering wasteland of the Fade.

As his father fell silent for the last time, Nathaniel realized that he'd never asked of Elissa. The thing that actually brought him here in the first place, would now never be known. It didn't matter now, his father was gone and if Elissa lived – she would be unable to accept the thing that he would become, the things that he had promised to do to honor his father's dying wish.

He replaced his helm, standing slowly and making his way back to his quarters to retrieve his few belongings and forge a new plan.


	44. Chapter 44: Crime and Punishment

_**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N: **Teensy bit of **NSFW**ish material at the very beginning, but it is super mild! Just felt like I should put it out there anyway!_

_Thanks as usual to my wonderful readers, followers and reviewers! Feel free to send me your comments anytime! :)_

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Forty-Four: Crime and Punishment<strong>_

_Howe_. The name kept repeating in Elissa's mind, even as she stumbled through the Fade. Had she done it? Was he dead? She couldn't be certain. The last thing she remembered was his laughing sneer as she dragged herself forward on her fingernails intent on finishing him off. She had been wounded, badly and could no longer manage standing. The only thing driving her had been adrenaline and a thirst for vengeance. She intended to cut out his heart, if she could only get there. But it had all gone dark.

She could feel herself stirring, the heavy fog of dream and near death lifting from her mind – leaving her refocused and intent on finishing what she had come there to achieve.

_Even if he lived, he can't have gotten far_, she thought, her eyes starting to flutter open. _I severed his spine, I made sure of that_.

She squinted as she sat, the bright light of the room making it impossible for her to see for a moment. Once her eyes adjusted, she looked around – realizing that she was not lying on the dirty floor of Howe's Denerim dungeons as she had expected, but rather locked in a cell in what she could only assume to be Fort Drakon.

She looked down at herself, covered only in a sackcloth dress that dropped to just above her knees and her small clothes. Her hair was down, and though she checked to be certain, she knew that meant that her lock picks were gone.

_Blast!_ she thought as she struggled to her feet, wincing in pain at the incredibly sensitive wound in her leg. Looking down she could make out the ugly jagged scar that ran from the underside of her left knee up her inner thigh until it disappeared beneath the ratty cloth of her dress.

_I suppose I should be thankful_, Elissa thought, wandering closer to the bars of her cell with a slight limp that she could do little to control. _I should be dead_.

She remembered all of the blood; she'd been unable to stop it as it spilled out of her severed vessels like a great red fountain. It was stupid of her to underestimate Howe, to allow her guard to drop in such a way. But he'd made her so angry… so…

_Nathaniel_. She remembered it then, what Howe had said to set her off. Flemeth had been right, Nathaniel was alive and had found his way back to Ferelden against all odds in search of **her**… and she had killed his father.

She dropped her head forward against the cool metal bars of her enclosure, pressing her eyes closed and trying to suppress the wave of torment that rattled through her heart. Nathaniel would never forgive this. How could he? How could she expect him to?

Her heart ached knowing that she would lose him again to this tragedy between them, and that she would suffer through that loss alone – without Fergus, without Oriana and Oren, without…

"_Alistair_!" Elissa whispered, pulling out of her sorrows suddenly and remembering that she had not been the only one fighting in Howe's estate.

If they'd captured her, had they captured him as well? And what of Zevran and Wynne? She could see no other prisoners from her cell, nor could she hear signs that anyone else was being held nearby. If her companions were here, they were silent or dead.

The thought that somewhere within these walls her friends and her… her **Alistair**, could be suffering or dying because they had chosen to accompany her on her foolish quest for vengeance, stirred her to action and she strained forward against the bars trying to catch sight of the guard she could barely make out from his patrol in the halls of the prison ward.

"Guard!" Elissa called, clearing her throat of the weakness of sleep and disuse and trying again when her first shout didn't reach him. "**Guard**!"

The man turned, pausing briefly as if considering his options before pacing over to her cell and standing across from her, being sure to remain far enough outside of her range that he knew she couldn't touch him.

"If you're not bleeding again, I don't care!" the guard huffed, crossing his arms and inspecting Elissa with a cautious eye as though she might attack him at any moment.

"Again?" Elissa asked, wondering when and why she had been bleeding the first time – surely she was healed before they brought her into the prison, at least partially; otherwise she would have bled out fully on the floor beside Howe.

"Yes, **again**," the guard spat, narrowing his eyes. "Did they hit you in the head when they took you in for questioning? They usually avoid that."

"I-In the head… questioning…" Elissa muttered, bits and pieces of memory coming back to her – flashes of pain and the smell of burning flesh – of endless questions and – _Loghain_. "I was tortured!"

"You know, this fragile waif routine isn't going to work on me, Lady," the guard insisted, glaring at her. "I know **who** you are, and what you're capable of."

"If you know who I am… then you must know **how** I am…" Elissa whispered, switching tactics and hoping she was right about the assaults on her character she was fairly certain that both Howe and Loghain would have muttered about in the presence of their men. "How I get… lonely…"

She smiled, wetting her bottom lip with her tongue and rubbing the side of her face against the bars seductively before stepping back long enough to drop the sackcloth dress down her body to pool at her feet.

"Surely there can't be any harm in seeing to my needs?" Elissa drawled, reaching up to run her fingertips along her upper chest dipping down in between the swells of her breasts, watching the guard's eyes follow every movement. "I am unarmed and thus harmless, as you can see."

He looked her over intently, and she could see the battle between logic and lust, between his body's urges and the knowledge of who she was passing through his mind.

"Well… I s-suppose I could keep you company... for a bit," the guard said, bringing an even broader smile onto Elissa's face when she realized that lust had won.

She backed away from the door, allowing him to enter and lock it behind them. He turned quickly afterward, anxious to press his hands into the soft flesh of her body.

"Ah, ah!" Elissa smiled, wagging a finger at him before reaching up to trace his jaw line. "Take that armor off first! It chafes you know!"

The guard chuckled, removing his clothing as Elissa lounged back against the pile of thatching that made up the _bed_ provided to the prison occupants.

"Maker, they put a lot of buckles on this thing…" he complained, his eyes darting over to her again and again as he stripped himself down to his small clothes.

She tried to suppress her disgust as her eyes caught the evidence of just how eager the man was to lay with the infamous murderess before him. She parted her legs slightly, fighting the urge to gag as he pressed his body against her – telling herself that she only had to allow his touch long enough to get the leverage she needed to…

"There we go…" Elissa whispered, stroking at the man's face and pulling him up from his worship at her breasts – watching his eyes go wide with fear when he realized what was happening, but by then it was too late, a quick twitch of her wrists had snapped his neck and left him limp and heavy against her body.

She shoved him away, rolling over and forcing herself not to vomit onto the floor as she reached for the discarded cloth of her dress and pulled it back over her head.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry." Elissa whispered to the man, pressing his eyes closed with her thumb and forefinger before rifling through his pockets for the keys she knew she'd find there. "You were simply the means to an end."

She walked to the door, finding what appeared to be the master key on the guard's ring and pressing it into the lock – letting out the breath she had unknowingly been holding when she felt the mechanism pop into place allowing her freedom.

As she limped out the door, she could make out the slumped form of another body in the cell next to hers. She moved forward, pressing her key into that door and stepping inside – instantly recognizing the nearly naked body of the man she'd spent so many nights with over the near year behind them.

"Alistair…" Elissa whispered, reaching out her hand to touch newly healed scars on his legs, arms and back with tentative fingers – he'd been tortured as well, and Maker only knew how many times to accumulate this much scarring.

"E-Elissa…" he muttered, stirring weakly against the floor – opening his eyes to see her crawling over to him with tears streaming down her face. "Maker I-I… I never thought I'd see you again, alive… I could hear the screaming when they took you… the last time they brought you back, you didn't move for so long… I thought you were… I thought…"

He collapsed then, sobbing into her lap – clutching at the cloth of her dress and her legs beneath it. She cried too, but softly – not wishing to add to his torment with her own sorrows. She stroked at his back, and at his golden hair, wishing she could take it all away.

He was up suddenly, pushing himself to sitting – pulling her against him hard and crushing her mouth against his own, kissing her as though he wanted nothing more than to consume her.

"**Never** again." Alistair whispered, parting from her lips for only a moment before taking them for another long series of passionate kisses – then pulling back once more. "Never again will I be parted from your side, Elissa Cousland, I **swear** it!"

"Alistair, this wasn't your fault…" Elissa assured him, reaching up to touch his face – to wipe away some of the tears that still fell. "I charged ahead, it was foolish of me. I know that now. We'd never be in this situation if it wasn't for my stupid need for retribution."

"We'd never be in this situation if I'd listened to you when you said not to trust Anora." he replied, kissing her again and then pulling her into a tight embrace.

"Speaking of the Queen, shouldn't we be getting ourselves out of here and seeing to a proper rescue?" she asked, knowing that if they'd fallen – Anora likely remained locked inside of Denerim Estates cursing the delay.

"Oh, uh… that's right, you were sort of _unconscious_ for that part, weren't you?" Alistair replied, separating from her long enough to catch the flash of anger spark to life within her eyes once again.

"**What** part?" Elissa asked, eyes narrowing while she waited for whatever it was Alistair was about to say, certain she was not going to like it.

"She betrayed us, Elissa… just like you said she would." he explained, hanging his head at the memory. "We were almost out when we got stopped by that snooty war-maiden of Loghain's"

"Cauthrien?" she asked, watching him nod in reply.

"Anora just handed us over to her, said we'd tried to kidnap her." Alistair growled, and Elissa saw anger blooming into him – such a rare sight it almost always caught her off guard. "So you can go ahead and say it."

"Say what?" Elissa asked, genuinely confused.

"I told you so." he replied, his jaw twitching in fury as he met her eyes again.

"I did, but that matters little now." she chuckled, kissing his cheek affectionately before pulling lose from his grasp and standing – reaching down to help him to his feet and ignoring her own pains. "Right now we have to get out of here. Are you alright to travel?"

"I've been worse… and I imagine I'll be better when we get out of here." Alistair answered, following behind her as she limped her way back to her cell. "What about you? That limp… your leg was…"

"It's sore and stiff, but it will heal. I imagine Wynne must have set it a little, and whatever else they've done to us in here - we've both been seen to by healers... though I shudder to think of the reasons behind **that** kindness..." Elissa said, patting his arm in reassurance before she knelt to retrieve the fallen guard's armor and weapon, handing them over to him. "Put this on, it's too big for me."

"I don't even want to know what you did to get him in here…" he mumbled, glancing over to the way the man was sprawled out next to her bedding and hastily pulling on the dead man's armor.

"You **really** don't." she assured him, helping to buckle him into the remaining pieces and then handing over the sword as she moved them out the door. "The other cells are empty, so if they have Zevran and Wynne – they aren't being held here."

"Cauthrien only seemed to want us." Alistair offered, standing ready for attack as Elissa used the master key to gain access to the next room which smelled through the door to be a kennel. "If I had to guess, I'd wager they were simply released and deemed inconsequential."

"I hope you're right." Elissa said, holding her hand against the newly unlocked door. "Ready?"

He nodded and so she pressed it open, moving aside so that Alistair could dash through and engage the man and two mabari who were stationed inside. It took a while to deal with the trio. Elissa was unarmed and they were both weak from the injuries they had sustained before and **after** their imprisonment.

Eventually, Alistair took down the guard – and after Elissa retrieved his sword, the two mabari were much easier to manage. They killed one, and locked the other in the hallway running from the prison to the kennels when they started to become too exhausted to manage him further.

"Shield…" Elissa panted, kneeling to remove the fallen guard's armor and claim it for her own.

That process took an equally long time, and Alistair was forced to dress Elissa for the most part when she became too exhausted to finish the task on her own. It gave him a very close look at the injury to her leg – and he ran a finger across the puckered skin there.

"I've missed you too, love, but is now **really** the best time?" she laughed, hoping to stop his thoughts from becoming any darker with light flirtation.

"I'm not… I wasn't…" Alistair stuttered, realizing how close his fingers had drifted to the apex of her thighs when he followed the scar and blushing profusely before he realized what she was doing for him in using her humor to relieve his distress. "Right… right… focusing on the task at hand."

When she was secured into her armor at last, they moved slowly into the heart of the Fort, hoping to simply slip out of the nearest exit undetected. Elissa was disguising her limp as best she could, but Alistair could see on her face that she was tiring fast and knew that they needed to find an exit as soon as possible.

"You there!" a voice called out to them, and Alistair watched Elissa's eyes go wide in fear – cursing under his breath as he backed them up only to realize in his hurry he'd walked them directly in front of the Colonel's office. "Are you the new recruits I was told to be expecting?"

"Yes sir." Alistair replied, sharing a look with Elissa that reassured him this was the best and **only **plan they had.

"Then you're late!" the Colonel snipped, glaring at them and gesturing across the hall with his letter opener before going back to work at his desk. "The rest of your patrol is in the storage room. Find them and get yourselves ready for inspection."

"Yes sir." Alistair answered, snapping off a quick salute and watching Elissa follow suit before falling in behind him as they headed into the storage room.

Alistair rushed them through the series of increasingly ridiculous steps it took to acquire a regulation sword for inspection as quickly as he could, watching as Elissa began to struggle with the effort it was taking to keep herself upright and not limping. The two idiots with whom they'd been assigned to patrol, were easy to lose once they had made it outside the walls of the Fort – and Alistair allowed for a short rest in an alleyway just off the market so that they could catch their breath before going the rest of the way.

"You should go the rest of the way without me." Elissa puffed, reaching forward to clutch at the pain in her aching leg and struggling to catch her breath. "You'll be faster on your own."

"I told you I wasn't leaving you again." Alistair insisted, crouching down to touch her face – noticing how pale she had gone in the sunlight of the city streets. "I wasn't kidding about that. I'll carry you if I have to, but I won't leave you here."

"You may have to, I'm afraid." Elissa said, struggling to stand but failing to find the strength to do so. "I-I don't think I can stand again. I'm sorry... I'm normally much less of a damsel in distress."

He nodded, dipping down to pull her into his arms and relishing the feel of her lips on his cheek as she kissed him briefly.

"My lady" he smirked, checking the empty streets for guards before heading out again.

"My white knight," she smiled at him, leaning her head against his shoulder as he made his way to Eamon's Estate.

* * *

><p>"Maker's breath!" Eamon gasped, eyes wide in both surprise and relief as Alistair made his way into the main room and, after placing Elissa comfortably in a chair, fell exhausted into one of his own. "It is good to see you both in one piece."<p>

"Indeed." Anora added, unphased by the malice in the glares she received from both Alistair and Elissa. "After your rather **alarming** lack of subtlety, I feared the worst for you both. I prayed diligently for your safe return."

"That is **so** sweet it almost makes me want to kill you less." Elissa muttered, clapping softly at Anora's gifted performance of sympathy. "**Almost**."

"What would you have had me do, Elissa?" Anora hissed, eyes narrowed in anger as she faced off with the woman once again. "I realize that you were unconscious and could scarcely be expected to control him – but your buffoon of a lover **announced** my presence to my father's most trusted lackey!" she flicked her angry eyes over to Alistair. "Did the purpose of my disguise **entirely** escape you, you world class moron?"

"I did what I had to do to save, Elissa." Alistair shouted, rising from the chair with a fury Elissa hadn't seen before - even in the few times she had seen him angry, he had **never** been like this. "I will **not** apologize for risking your life in exchange for hers! I'd do it again if I had to!"

Elissa reached up, taking his hand and pulling him back down to the chair beside her – feeling his body shaking from the force of his anger and willing him to be calm. She noted Anora's discomfort with a smile – uncertain whether it was because she feared Alistair himself or the connection that Elissa clearly had to the only living Theirin.

"I barely managed to slip away from her when we reached the palace, she was very watchful after that stunt you pulled." Anora continued, shifting her face back into the neutral guise of the Queen. "I know that you are angry…"

"**Angry**?" Alistair snorted, glaring at her still. "Angry doesn't even begin to cover it."

"I'd imagine, not… still, despite our rather **unfortunate** beginnings, I am hoping that we can still work together." Anora continued, taking in a deep breath. "Will you hear me out?"

"You've got to be kidding." Alistair laughed, throwing himself back in his chair and staring at the ceiling before turning his eyes to his Uncle. "Why is she even **here**?"

"You'll have to forgive us, Anora." Elissa offered, squeezing Alistair's hand again – and holding his eyes long enough to pass along a silent request to follow her lead - hoping they could read each other well enough at this point that he would understand her. "Several days of torture tend to make a person less… **open** to hearing out those who have betrayed them in the past… You must understand that, in light of that, we can make you no promises."

"We **need** to move past this and work together, Elissa." Anora insisted, unwilling to accept her dismissal. "You are a logical woman, at least – you were the last I saw you."

"A great deal has changed since last we met." Elissa replied, raising an eyebrow and shifting herself into a more comfortable position – forcing herself to ignore the wave of pain with the motion as she knew Anora would see it as a sign of weakness to be exploited.

"Yes! It has!" Anora insisted, gesturing wildly. "Cailan is dead and my father has gone mad!" the Queen began to pace, her calm facade fading as she showed what Elissa believed to be actual fear - though for what, she was uncertain. "I didn't believe it at first – I thought it was all **Howe's** doing… but Howe is gone, and still he is gripped by a paranoia so severe he won't see sense. He saw **me** as a… t-threat to him. He would have let Howe kill me, I know that now." she stopped walking, and locked eyes with Elissa again, "I am certain that while I came here of my own free will, he is out there telling the nobles and anyone who will listen that the Wardens are dangerous murderers and that **you** are holding me here against my will – brain-washing me against him. At this point, h-he may even believe it."

"I'm sure you're right, Anora – but I don't see what we can do about it." Elissa replied, shaking her head at the frantic Queen. "And I don't see **why** we should do anything to help you with any more of your problems. Helping you is what got us here in the first place."

"I agree." Alistair mumbled, squeezing her hand in support and ignoring the stern look that Eamon tried to send his way.

"You will need ammunition against my father come the Landsmeet!" Anora insisted, seeing her hopes dwindle as she was shot down again and again. "I can help in that regard."

"You should hear her out." Eamon insisted, meeting Elissa's glare with one of his own - furious that he was losing control not only of his nephew, but of the situation as a whole. "She is **right**, Elissa. We cannot hope to oust Loghain on our word alone, especially not now after you murdered Howe and a large contingent of his men in cold blood."

"That monster **deserved** what he got!" Elissa spat, losing her cool for a moment and her control over her body at the same time – falling back into her chair in anguish when she tried to put weight on her aching leg and stand. Alistair reached over to comfort her, glaring at his Uncle for a second before she waved his hands away. "I'm fine, Alistair – leave it…" she hissed, patting at his hand.

"I have no doubt that Howe deserved his end." Eamon replied, wondering how bad her injuries must be to cause her reaction and noting that the Queen had locked onto her suffering like a predator onto prey. "However, the way that you brought it has called even more attention to us – and Loghain has not painted it in a favorable light."

"I doubt that being gutted and left to die in a pile of filth **can** be painted in a favorable light, Eamon." Elissa replied, smiling a grim and dangerous smile at him. "But I make no apologies for having done it, and I would do it again, given the chance. **Multiple** times if necessary." Eamon held her eyes for only a second before faltering, almost fearful in the face of what he saw there. "You should know, however – that Alistair had nothing to do with it. He wasn't even there when Howe died, so his hands are clean. That **is** what you were really worried about, right?"

Alistair shifted uncomfortably beside her and she squeezed his hand watching as Eamon's eyes flickered up to hers again with an almost imperceptible nod. Elissa was nothing if not perceptive.

"Fine, Anora…" Elissa sighed, stroking Alistair's hand with her thumb when he mumbled his disagreement with her choice to hear the Queen out. "What is it you know?"

"There is a great deal of unrest in the Alienage." Anora began.

"There is **always** a great deal of unrest in the Denerim Alienage from what I've heard." Elissa responded, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "It's what happens when you don't treat **all** people as proper living beings."

"I am **aware** that your family did not approve of the way that the Denerim Alienage has been conducted, Elissa, as is most everyone I suspect." Anora replied, a muscle in her neck beginning to twitch impatiently. "That is, however, not actually what I'm getting at, which you would **know** already if you would shut up long enough to let me finish."

"Watch your tone, Queeny." Elissa snipped, narrowing her eyes. "Unless you'd rather I leave you to speak with Alistair in private…"

She felt Alistair tense up beside her, and subtly squeezed his fingers – silently willing him to play the part she needed for him to play because she hadn't the energy to do it herself.

He sat up straighter a moment later, releasing her hand and standing so that he could move closer to Anora with a smile.

"That won't be necessary." Anora replied, backing closer to Eamon – she'd never found Alistair to be anything other than comical or annoying in the past – but he was downright menacing standing there in the corner – staring at her with angry eyes. "I simply know that **something** is going on there, something out of the ordinary. Whatever it is, my father and Howe have certainly had their fingers in it – and there may be traces that will prove their involvement. If you could find them, we could use it at the Landsmeet to force my father to concede."

"It is possible that what you're saying is right." Elissa allowed, watching the woman breathe in a sigh of relief. "But I have to wonder why you did not send this information with your handmaiden. It is nothing that required you to deliver in person."

"That is true… and while I did, **honestly**, fear for my safety in Howe's hands – the truth is I sent for you because I hoped we might join forces." Anora explained, risking drifting closer to Elissa in the hopes that she could reach some common ground within the woman. "You need that evidence to sway the Landsmeet in your favor, but you also need a stronger candidate. You need me."

"We have the only candidate we need." Elissa answered, her eyes darting to Alistair and seeing the worry there – though their experiences over the past few days had only solidified her belief that Eamon, regardless of his intentions, was correct in his assertions that Alistair was the right man for the job – clearly he still hesitated. "We have Alistair."

"I have no doubt that Alistair is biddable enough… and _decent_…" Anora added, almost as an afterthought. "But even with his blood, he is **no** King. You cannot think I am the only one who sees it. You know the world of nobility as well as I do, Elissa – perhaps even better. The people of Ferelden will not bow to a man who doesn't know the first thing about actually **being** royalty."

"You're right, Anora." Elissa said, enjoying the slight smile that crossed the Queen's face with the knowledge she was about to wipe it right back off. "You could fill volumes with the things that Alistair does not know about the world of nobility, the things that have been drilled into our heads since birth. But I don't think those are necessary to be a good man, or a good King... and **all** of those things can be taught, especially when you have an excellent tutor available and more than willing to lend a hand." She smiled then, watching both Anora and Alistair turn their eyes to hers – one barely hiding amusement, and the other malice. "You said it yourself, I know the world of nobility **very** well."

"And what of him being a Grey Warden?" Anora snipped, glaring daggers at the woman in front of her and flinging an arm out to gesture in Alistair's direction. "It will look as though you are trying to put a Warden on the throne, despite your objections to the contrary. I am a neutral party… and I am **already** Queen."

"Anora, you are indeed Cailan's widow, but…" Eamon said, inserting himself back into the conversation before he lost any more ground as being the controlling factor in all of this to the woman in the chair across the room.

"I am the **daughter** of Ferelden's greatest general! Who do you think truly ruled this nation for the last five years, Cailan?" Anora snorted, shaking her head.

"And… there you have it…" Alistair said, waving an arm at her and sharing a smirk with Elissa across the room.

"Anora, really… your arrogance is surprising even to me." Elissa laughed, rolling her eyes. "Perhaps you did some of the work or… _thought_ that you did, but this country **adored** Cailan. You are not nearly as important as you'd like to believe."

"**I** am what this country needs, not an untrained **bastard** who does not even want the throne!" Anora hissed, yelling now – removed from all her proper training and lost to her anger. "I, alone, can help you stop my father. Consider what I have said, carefully – Elissa – do not let our rivalry make this decision for you," she said, stalking over to the door. "For now, I think I shall retire to my room… I have suffered enough abuse for the day. I ask that you come see me, privately, when you have a moment. There is more we must speak of – one woman, to another."

Elissa nodded, but did not reply – watching her move down the hall and wondering what she was playing at this time.

"Well that was… interesting…" Alistair said, walking back over to Elissa's side and taking her hand as he fell back into the other chair.

"Anora has always been… spirited…" Elissa muttered, squeezing his hand and sharing a look that promised they would also speak in private. She had said a great many things of which she was unsure he had approved.

"Poor Cailan… he was a… **good** man, but Anora was always two steps ahead of him." Eamon said, the ghost of the fallen King heavy in the air as he lost himself in memory. "Had him jumping when she snapped from the first time she batted her eyelashes after they were married…" he looked sad for a moment, and Elissa almost felt bad for him – but then it was gone, and he was once again the focused man she had grown to dislike the longer she had known him. "I know that she is trouble, and that neither of you have any love for her… nor should you, but I cannot shake the feeling that we should keep her close, regardless."

"This is an alliance of convenience, Eamon – nothing more. For the moment we are united against Loghain and so she works with us – but I would place **no** trust in her." Elissa cautioned, holding his eyes and pressing her point – she would not back down from it this time, the woman was dangerous and not to be trusted. "I do not think for a moment that Anora will give up her power easily, not to her father and **certainly** not to Alistair. She has grown too accustomed to the taste of it."

"You're right." Eamon responded with a quick nod. "Still, I would rather have her where we can watch her than actively working for her father."

"I'm sorry… perhaps this is just the _stupid_ part of me coming out… but I can't understand why she would willingly work with us." Alistair interrupted, shaking his head. "We're aiming to depose her, and she knows it now."

"Anora was a capable administrator for Cailan's lands, but she has not a drop of royal blood." Eamon insisted, holding his nephew's eyes with a furious intensity. "We did not fight the Orlesians all those years just to lose our royal line in a single generation. Not when there's still a surviving son of the blood."

"I don't know the first thing about being King." Alistair insisted, still uncomfortable with this idea even though he was growing more accustomed to the fact that it was his burden to bear – like it or not. "I've told both of you this, on many occasions."

"You're wrong, Alistair." Elissa said, ignoring her pain and weakness and pulling herself up out of the chair to kneel at his feet – taking his hands in her own and shaking her head when he tried to rise and interrupt her, or pull her back up. "With a few months of experience, and some _expert_ advice – which I just happen to have to offer you – you will make an excellent King."

"You want to do this? You want to train me to be… _King_?" Alistair asked, holding her eyes and silently asking his intended question – would she stay? Would she rule with him, at his side?

"I told you that whatever you decided, I would be there to support you – and I have not wavered from that course." Elissa assured him, dodging the question but giving him just enough reassurance that she knew he would hear her out - the idea of being his Queen was not something she had the heart to consider at the moment. "This whole journey has been… well… a nightmare for the most part, but you've gotten a crash course in the life of a proper King and you didn't even realize it." She watched his brow wrinkle in confusion, and so pressed forward. "You know how to build an army and lead it to defend your lands, you know how to stand up and fight for what is right – even when it isn't the easy thing to do. You know how to show compassion to those less fortunate, and how to trust your own heart to show you the difference between right and wrong. And… you know who to turn to for aid should all that training fail you…" she watched him blush, knowing he saw just how much she believed every word as she looked into his eyes – releasing his hands to reach up and hold his face. "You will make a **fine** King, Alistair Theirin."

"If you believe in me, then how can I not believe in myself?" Alistair said, leaning in to kiss her quickly. "I cannot believe how crazy my life has become… to build an army seemed impossible and now you want to make me a King."

"Do you want this?" Elissa asked, wanting him to be sure – needing to know this was what he wanted before she threw her full weight behind the effort. "If you don't, tell me now before we go any further."

"Elissa… I… I have spent such a very long time feeling worthless and incapable of amounting to much more than a random body among the masses… but with you, with you I've felt like **anything** was possible." Alistair explained, holding her eyes. "If you say I should be King, that I **can** be King, then I believe you. I will do what is right for our friends, for Ferelden, and for you."

"Right then… Your Majesty." Elissa quipped, smiling at him then kissing his face.

"Stop it!" Alistair insisted, kissing her again. "I'm not King yet, and even then – you _never_ have to call me that."

"**Touching** though this is…" came Eamon's voice, snapping them both out of their revelry – and forcing them to acknowledge that he was still in the room. "We really should address Anora's information in the Alienage."

"You're right, I'm sorry." Elissa replied, standing – then faltering on her feet as the pain in her leg flared again.

"No you don't." Alistair said, catching her in his arms and looking to his Uncle. "I'm sorry, Eamon – we aren't going anywhere until we've had a night's rest and been seen to by our healers."

"As you wish." Eamon said, tipping his head. "But I urge you not to take too long. Loghain surely knows you've escaped by now, and he is a loose cannon. I hesitate to think what he's planning now."

Eamon watched as his nephew reluctantly acknowledged this request, before escorting his fellow Warden out of the room and into the hall. He was losing ground with every word out of that woman's mouth, and he knew it. As he retreated to his own quarters, he thought long and hard about what he was going to do about it - if there was even anything left he **could** do.


	45. Chapter 45: Rivalry and Riordan

_**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** Sorry for the delay in updates! Had a busy weekend and simply didn't have the time to get anything up! I hope to have several chapters up this week though :)_

_Thanks to my readers, followers and reviewers! I love to hear from you guys! Extra special thanks to my Lady Beta, **artemiskat**._

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Forty-Five: Rivalry and Riordan<strong>_

Word of Alistair and Elissa's return spread quickly throughout the estate, and as they made their way back to their room – the Wardens' companions started to trickle in, needing to reassure themselves that their friends had indeed returned and in one piece.

"I'm fine, Sten. _Really_." Elissa assured the giant, offering a tired smile to him where he stood gruffly inspecting her and preventing her from moving any further down the hall.

She was going to assure him further, but before she could open her mouth to speak again he had flipped her up in his arms and carried her the rest of the way to her room – lying her gently on the bed so that Wynne and Morrigan could see to the wound in her leg.

"I will not be left behind again, kadan." Sten insisted, backing away just far enough for Morrigan and Wynne to move in. Elissa could see the muscles in his jaw twitching angrily when the extent of her injuries were revealed. "Nothing you can say will sway me from that course."

"I didn't suspect it would." Elissa sighed, feigning frustration – but the honest truth was that she was touched by the outpouring of affection from this motley group that had become her family.

Even the usually stoic members like Sten, Morrigan and Shale were openly expressing how grateful they were to see the pair again – and in one piece. Zevran and Oghren were flirting inappropriately, and Leliana was – of course – praising the Maker.

"You should see to the Templar." Morrigan said with a tilt of her head in Alistair's direction as she continued to poke and prod at Elissa's knee. "I'm happy he's returned, but not happy enough to actually **touch** him."

"I missed you too, Morrigan." Alistair chuckled, shaking his head and reaching over to take Elissa's hand – kissing it softly before allowing them to drop back to the mattress, fingers intertwined.

* * *

><p>A short time later, though still much longer than either Alistair or Elissa would have preferred, they finally managed to clear their room of company long enough to bathe and dress themselves in clean and comfortable clothes. After taking an extra large meal in their quarters, Elissa decided she should go and speak with Anora.<p>

"You're _certain_ you don't want me to come along?" Alistair asked, reluctant to let her go after the way that Anora had betrayed them back in the Denerim Estates.

"Anora was pretty specific about wanting to see me alone." Elissa sighed, understanding his concerns and not really wanting to go at all but feeling that it was a necessity. "I've asked Zevran to stand outside the door with Sten. His hearing is fantastic, as you well know. If there is even a tiny sign of trouble, he'll let Sten know, and I suspect no matter** what** she has planned – our Queen is no match for an angry qunari."

"You've got a point there." Alistair laughed, smiling as Elissa leaned down to kiss him softly – holding his face in her hands.

"Just rest… I won't be long." Elissa insisted, communicating much with her eyes that went unsaid, then sliding out the door to find the assassin and qunari already waiting.

* * *

><p>"Elissa." Anora said, a cool nod in her direction as she sent Erlina to wait outside the room with Sten and Zevran. "I am glad that you decided to come and speak with me."<p>

"Just, don't make me regret it." Elissa said, limping slightly as she made her way to the couch and put her leg up to relieve some of the strain. "I don't have the patience required for any more arguments today."

"I realize that my… actions at Howe's estate may not have painted me in the best light…" Anora said, accepting Elissa's vitriol as gracefully as possible as she sat in the chair across from her. "For that I apologize, and I do hope we can start again."

"How many times are we going to start again, Anora?" Elissa sighed, laying her head back against the arm of the couch and turning her face to the Queen. "This is what, round three or four for us? We've never played nice together. I don't suspect that's going to change now, especially considering the circumstances."

"Perhaps you are right." Anora admitted, a small laugh offered in response to Elissa's brutal honesty. "Regardless, I did know your family. Eleanor in particular was dear to me, and what Howe did to them was… unforgivable. It is fitting that he died by your hand."

"If you are hoping to repair things between us, _my Queen_… speaking of my family is not the road to travel, I assure you." Elissa said, eyes cold and hard as she shared a look with the woman across the room.

Regardless of their shared youth in nobility, the difference between the two could not have been more drastic. They were both beautiful women, both highly intelligent and capable of doing most anything they set their minds to – but while Anora had retained the softness and false mask of practiced nobility, Elissa had grown hard in the face of her trials. The ability to play the games of required by higher social circles no longer came easily to her, if it ever had – and Anora was beginning to understand that.

"Straight to the point then." Anora said, clearing her throat and meeting Elissa's eyes directly, all pretenses aside. "I can see that your voice will be a strong one in the days to come. Even Eamon bows to you, and with good reason."

"I don't think I'm as important as you believe." Elissa snorted, rolling her eyes at the very idea that Eamon would bow to her for any reason.

"No? You're a Grey Warden now. And… despite the fact that Father will paint himself as the **only** one who can protect Ferelden from the Blight, the people know that is not so. The stories of our youth are strong, Elissa. You were fed a steady diet of Warden mythos just as I was. With what you've added personally, you're practically a living legend to many of the people in our land already." Anora said, watching as Elissa wrinkled her brow in response.

"A living legend, huh?" Elissa snorted, looking to Anora with suspicious eyes. "That's laying it on a bit thick even for you."

"It isn't _laying it on_ at all," the Queen replied, shrugging her shoulders. "I am simply repeating what I've heard. You are competent and powerful, and in the right place at the right time. Used to your advantage, these things could bring you – or the person of your choosing – quite far. My father must be stopped, Elissa, on at least this point I know that you and I can agree. Once that is done – Ferelden will need a ruler. I would welcome your support so that I may keep my throne."

"I'm certain you would." Elissa laughed, rubbing at her face with her hands as exhaustion began to set in fully. "Seriously, Anora, why on **earth** would I ever support you after everything you've done?"

"For years **I** have ruled this country as Cailan's Queen. **You** may have believed the lies, but most of Ferelden knows this to be so." Anora explained, ignoring the glare from Elissa that she received at the mention of Cailan's ineptitude. "Cailan was a good man, as I'm sure is Alistair – but what we need now is _not_ a good man, but a good ruler. I see an opportunity here, for us both to advance. I need your support, and you need mine. I know you've been out of proper society for awhile now, Elissa, but surely you don't want to live rummaging about in the dirt like vermin for the rest of your life."

"I'm going to ignore that you've just equated everything I've accomplished over the last year to spending my days rooting about in a mabari cage, because I'm simply too tired to argue about it." Elissa sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "And, I'm sorry, but your bragging and… _assertions_ about Cailan's inability to rule properly aside, I just don't see how you're a better candidate than Alistair."

"Is that so?" Anora said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her fingers across her lap in proper noble fashion. "Well then, what _do_ you think of Alistair's ability to rule? We'll just **forget** the part where he doesn't actually _want_ to for the moment."

"Being a good ruler requires more than ambition, Anora." Elissa sneered, irritation rising the longer the conversation continued. "Otherwise I'd have backed you from the beginning."

"Alistair seems like a kind, well-meaning man… and biddable enough. These are certainly admirable qualities, attractive even… should you like that sort of thing…" the Queen tossed a half smile at Elissa. "He **also** seems like he's a fine Grey Warden. You don't think he should remain there, where he wants to be, and continue to serve the kingdom in that fashion?"

"Do you have spies watching potential rivals or are you just rattling off a list of things you think I want to hear?" Elissa laughed, eying the other woman cautiously.

"Cailan knew of Alistair, Elissa… knew **all** about him." Anora explained, smiling when she realized that she knew things that her rival did not. "It was Eamon that chose to hide him away. Cailan had nothing to do with it."

"I'd say I was surprised, but I'm really, **really** not." Elissa said, sitting up properly and turning to face the Queen - laughing bitterly at Eamon's ability to sink lower and lower into the muck. "But none of that changes anything. All of the qualities you listed can only benefit Alistair as a ruler, and, try as you might to deny it – he **is** a Theirin. The last living Theirin in all of Ferelden."

"I am no fool, Elissa." Anora hissed, narrowing her eyes. "I know there are many who would follow Alistair, if for no other reason than out of respect for his blood. But there are a great many who would see this as Eamon grabbing for power… **again**. And another group would surely believe this was your way of moving the Couslands forward after their near extermination at the hands of Arl Howe."

"This isn't about me, Anora." Elissa replied, waving off the nonsense. "I want the throne no more now than when Cailan offered it to me years ago."

"What does Alistair want?" Anora snipped, irritated by the other woman's offhanded comment about her deceased husband's feeling for her. "Does he wish to rule alone? Who do you think he will turn to for help? You, Eamon… _Teagan_." the Queen snorted derisively at the last thought. "The nobles would not stand for a puppet king, and eventually things would degrade back to the old days of constant war with one another. Alistair's weakness would destroy everything that Maric built. Everything that **I** maintained."

"I can't help but notice how little you seem to care for Alistair." Elissa said, reaching down to rub at her knee as it became progressively stiffer from sitting so long.

"My feelings toward Alistair have nothing to do with it. I barely know him." Anora replied, sniffing lightly. "I simply believe I am what this country needs, and I will fight for my beliefs. Would Alistair do the same?"

"I think Alistair would do a great many things that might surprise you, Anora." Elissa laughed, reflecting fondly on how he'd menaced her in Eamon's study just after they arrived.

"You could be right." Anora admitted. "But, we have settled nothing here in our debate – and as you said, the day has been long and we both wish to retire. And so, I say again, I would welcome your support for the throne, if you would give it."

"It sounds to me as though you are proposing an alliance between us." Elissa laughed, leaning back in the chair once again and trying to stretch out her leg with moderate success. "You'll have to forgive me if I cannot help but laugh at the irony of that idea."

"Oh, the irony is not lost on me either - I assure you, nevertheless, that is **exactly** what I am proposing." Anora said, leaning forward to hold Elissa's eyes. "Together we can achieve what alone we cannot. You have never been the sort to operate in the background, Elissa, and try as you might to deny it – you _crave_ the spotlight as much as I."

"If that were true, _Anora_, I would have married Cailan any one of the number of times he proposed." Elissa retorted, leaning forward to glare at the Queen and watching her fury rise. "Now that I think about it, if what you want is to ensure yourself the throne and you're **so** certain that Alistair would simply sit by and allow himself to be used as a puppet, I wonder why it is that you're chatting me up and not him. Wouldn't turning Alistair to your cause be more productive? I mean – you'd marry another Theirin and still control the throne. It's a win win for you, if everything you say is true."

"Ignoring that the man looks so much like Cailan – **my** recently dead husband, as you recall – my main fear is that he might govern like Cailan as well." Anora started, turning inquisitive eyes on Elissa. "Why are you so eager to pawn him off on me anyway? I rather got the sense that you two might be…"

"That is not your concern." Elissa replied, hoping that the tone in her voice would silence the other woman's voice.

"Maric's boys **are** charming, aren't they?" Anora chuckled, the things Elissa didn't say communicating everything the woman wanted to know. "Always happiest when they have a pretty woman to dote on. Is that why you support him then?"

"I love him, if that's what you're asking." Elissa admitted, sighing heavily and turning her eyes into the fire as she allowed herself to feel the truth of those words. "Did you love Cailan?"

"It seems a strange word to describe a marriage made _for_ us, but yes… in the end, I loved him." Anora admitted, and as Elissa turned to her – she could see the hint of tears glittering in the Queen's eyes and knew it was a rare moment of honesty between them. "He was reckless and impetuous, but he was also charming and beautiful. Had he not been King, he would have made a dashing rogue for a band of players."

The two women chuckled together companionably for a moment at just how right that description seemed.

"I can't support you, Anora." Elissa said, interrupting the silence that had fallen between them with the memory of their dead King. "But I think you knew that before you asked me here."

"I had a feeling, but I needed to try one last time regardless." Anora replied, rising from the chair and pacing over to the fire. "My father must be stopped, Elissa. So long as he is kept from the throne, I will be content – even should it fall to Alistair."

"I wish I could believe that were true." Elissa said, with a tired laugh as she rose and moved to the door. "Goodnight, Anora. And – for what it's worth, I am truly sorry for your loss."

"It was not only my loss." Anora replied, holding the woman's eyes as she opened the door. "I wish you luck, Warden."

Elissa nodded briefly, then moved out the door and down the hall.

* * *

><p>On her way back to her quarters, Elissa found herself strolling past Riordan's room. She could feel him through the door – the pull of his tainted blood calling out to her insistently. As though he'd sensed the same, he opened the door at the exact moment she crossed in front of it – and she found herself looking into her past once again.<p>

"Ah, I thought I sensed you there," the man said, a light smile turning up the corners of his mouth as he looked at her.

"Sensed me, or sensed a Warden?" Elissa asked, wondering if he had developed the strange ability that she and Alistair had to read a specific taint within each other.

"I guessed it was you, though I suppose I couldn't say that with complete assurance." Riordan replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Your taint is much… stronger than it should be for someone so recently joined to the Warden ranks." He eyed her suspiciously for a moment, but when she offered him no information in reply to his assertions, he switched topics. "You don't look as though you've spent time with the inquisitors of Fort Drakon."

"Looks can be deceiving." Elissa replied cryptically, unsure how much she wanted to reveal to this man but unable to end the conversation – after what she had done to his father, she knew this was as close to seeing Nathaniel again as she was ever likely to get, and something about that comforted her more than it should have.

"Indeed they can." Riordan replied, smiling fully under her curious eyes – whatever he thought of her attentions to him, he clearly enjoyed them. "Well… I should let you retire for the evening. I'm certain you're tired."

"You mentioned a vault." Elissa said, desperate to keep him there for some reason and so calling out to him as he began to shut his door. "A place that the Wardens kept supplies within the city."

"I did," he replied, eyes twinkling a bit as he leaned against the doorway - knowing she was using this as an excuse to keep him there, to keep him talking. "It's off the Market District, in the northern alley just past the Gnawed Noble Tavern. Give me a moment and I'll sketch out the combination for you. That will get you past the lock wheel."

"You _could_ simply escort me." Elissa said, watching him turn back from his desk and raise an eyebrow at her. "I've only just escaped from imprisonment and Loghain is probably looking for me. It seems a decidedly **bad** idea to go gallivanting about the city on my own."

"You're certain there isn't _other_ company you would like to procure?" Riordan replied, walking back to her slowly and remembering the way she'd shied away from him in the dungeons of Denerim Estate.

"Alistair needs his rest, and there are no other Wardens here besides the three of us, unless you know something I do not." Elissa answered, not wanting to acknowledge the real reason she sought out **his** company specifically. "If you do not wish to come…"

"It isn't that…" the man answered, smiling at her again – trying to puzzle her out. She seemed at war with herself where he was concerned, equal parts interested and put off - and it was impossible for him not to see it. "Go and grab your things. Meet me by the front gate when you are ready."

Elissa nodded, limping back to her room to retrieve her armor. She was relieved to find Alistair sleeping soundly. She grabbed her things and changed quietly, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she headed back out the door.

* * *

><p>"Take your pick of whatever equipment you can find." Riordan said, moving inside the room with her and sliding the secret door shut behind them. "The Wardens have maintained this stockpile for centuries to defend Denerim. I suppose that honor falls to us now."<p>

"I suppose it does." Elissa sighed, beginning to dig through various crates and barrels for anything of use and trying to ignore the weight of the elder Warden's eyes on her – he'd watched her steadily from the moment she'd come to his side at the gate to Eamon's estate. Coming here with him was dangerous, and not simply because Loghain could capture her at any moment. "Did you know Duncan very well?"

"We went through our Joining together, more years ago than I care to remember." Riordan chuckled from his spot by the doorway, smiling sadly as he looked at the floor – Elissa smiled back, thinking he'd held up remarkably well if he was indeed Duncan's age. "He was exactly the same back then – tough as stone and just as grizzled."

The two shared a laugh as Elissa pulled a shield out of a crate, recognizing the heraldry on the front that marked it as having belonged to the former Warden-Commander.

"I think he understood sooner than the rest of us how ugly the choices were when you must sacrifice the few for the good of the many," he said, his voice jarring Elissa from her introspection as it came from close beside her – the hum in his blood vibrating pleasantly into her own - the tickle of air moving from his lips to her ear sending a wave of electric heat down her spine. "Always had a soft spot for his recruits though – especially the remarkable ones… only way he ever let himself down."

"You think he let himself down by caring for us?" Elissa asked, turning to meet his eyes and trying not to falter under his gaze, or stumble seeing how close he stood to her.

"Perhaps that was a poor choice of words." Riordan answered, his eyes dipping to linger on her lips for a moment when her tongue darted out to wet them, forcing her to move away and increase the physical space between them lest she do something she would later regret.

"C-can you tell me more about being a Grey Warden?" Elissa asked, trying to shake away some of the tension in the air by changing the subject as she continued to dig through the goods in the warehouse. "Alistair and I know very little about the order we did not read in books or hear in legends, and I suspect most of that is likely inaccurate."

"I'm happy to share with you what I know, but it seems you've already picked up on the important parts yourself," he replied, not missing the way she had to distract herself from him. He could feel the attraction between them, tugging insistently through their tainted blood - much the same as she did, he imagined. "Be firm in your beliefs, protect people from their own ignorance, and be as loyal as you can to your brothers and sisters knowing that you will share in their death."

"Where will you go now?" Elissa asked, sensing him move into the space behind her once again, though she had not turned to see him there. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy the hum from his blood, and the heat that radiated forward from his body into her own - allowing herself to believe for a moment that it was Nathaniel and not simply a man who vaguely resembled him "I suspect you have a destination in mind."

"When I'm well enough, I'll continue my journey to Ostagar. Hopefully I will be able to trace the heart of the Blight well enough to find the Archdemon where it abides." Riordan explained, noting the way her breath caught when she turned to find him lingering so close to her once again. He was far closer than he should have been, far closer than was proper - but he couldn't seem to help himself.

"The Archdemon has made its nest within the Deep Trenches." Elissa explained, wavering slightly on her feet at the nearness of this man – surely he must be near his own calling with the taint pumping so heavy within his blood, she could almost taste it. "At least, last I saw it."

"You've _seen_ the beast?" he asked, reaching forward to steady her but releasing quickly when he felt the shiver that coursed through her body with his touch and could not suppress answering it with one of his own. "I was not aware you had gone in search of it."

"We did not go in search of it, we were in the Deep Roads for other reasons and kind of stumbled across it." Elissa explained, gathering up the things she had chosen and heading back to the door - suddenly needing to be anywhere other than alone in a warehouse with a man who was _not_ who she wanted him to be. "I… I'm sorry, Riordan I'm feeling rather unsteady all of a sudden. Would you mind terribly if we returned to the Estate?"

"Not at all." Riordan answered, taking some of the things she had procured and helping her to carry them. "I suspect I shall be here for awhile longer. We can speak further of what I know if you desire."

She nodded, unable to say more when faced with him again. The thoughts of Nathaniel, of how close he might be at that very moment were pressing in on her and she wanted nothing more than to get back to the safety of her room and stop thinking for the night.

* * *

><p>"Maker, Elissa! Where have you been?" Alistair hissed, running over and wrapping her in his arms when she walked back in their door. "I've woken all of our companions looking for you… I even went and accused Anora of…"<p>

"You didn't!" Elissa replied, trying and failing not to laugh when she thought of an agitated Alistair barreling into Anora's room and waking her from sleep full of bluster and threats.

"I did!" he said, pulling back and trying to be angry at her but faltering a bit when he felt her continue to laugh. "Where did you go?"

"I went to check out that Warden Cache," she explained, moving over to drop her pack on the floor and remove her armor. "I couldn't sleep after my _chat_ with our Queen, and several of our companions' weapons and armor have seen better days."

"You went out in Denerim Market, at night, **alone**!" Alistair retorted, his fury rising again at the stupidity of that decision.

"I'm not suicidal, Alistair." Elissa sighed, sitting down at her vanity and taking down her hair. "I didn't go alone."

"Well you didn't take anyone from here," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair and sitting down on the bed. "I checked."

"Riordan took me," she answered, catching his eyes in her mirror and watching his features shift in reaction to that knowledge.

"Riordan?" Alistair repeated, dropping his hands into his lap – not sure what to make of it.

"He had the entry codes, and you needed your rest." Elissa attempted to explain, working the braids free in her hair and running her brush through a few times. "I wasn't about to take anyone who wasn't a Warden there."

"I'm sorry, I'm still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that you were out running the streets with _Riordan_," he said, falling back against the bed and rubbing his eyes. "I wasn't **that** tired, Elissa. You should have woken me."

"You're right, I should have," she replied, watching him turn his face to her as she settled on the bed with the shield she had retrieved for him. "I'm sorry."

"This… this shield." Alistair said, sitting up and tugging it from her hands into his lap – running his fingers over the crest on the front. "This was Duncan's! That's his crest…"

"I found it in the Cache." Elissa explained, smiling softly when he met her eyes again. "I thought you might like it."

"I had no idea his shield wasn't with him," he said, eyes filling with emotion as he thought on his lost father-figure once again. "I… did you know this was there?"

"Not this specifically, but Riordan said that Duncan stored some of his personal belongings there thinking to retrieve them when next he returned," she replied, reaching over to take his hand. "Is my decision to leave you behind becoming clearer now?"

"This is perfect, Elissa… I… I don't know how to properly express how grateful I am for this." Alistair said, tugging her hand to his mouth to kiss it. "I can't believe you even remembered me talking about this…"

"Of course I remembered." Elissa said, reaching up to touch his face. "I love you, Alistair. I… I'm not sure what else I can do to prove that."

"You don't need to prove it, Elissa… I – I guess I just have moments where I still can't believe you chose **me** – when you could have anyone," he replied, looking down for a moment when he thought of the long list of people he was certain would jockey to take his place should their relationship dissolve - their fellow Warden very likely included among them.

"Why don't you stop focusing on who I **could** have. It's a silly thought, and likely very inaccurate besides. I'm an obstinate woman, Alistair – beauty only covers so much of that," she chuckled, ignoring the pain in her leg as she crawled over to straddle his lap. "Focus, instead, on the fact that I **want** you – in every possible way. You have saved me, Alistair – from death and torture and _myself_. I could not have a better man than you. **I** am the lucky one."

He kissed her then, slowly but passionately – laying her gently back against the soft pillows of their bed and stoking the fires that burned between them. He was cautious of her injuries as he made love to her in the soft firelight of their room, gently but studiously bringing them both to the release that they needed then cradling her in his arms as they both fell into a dreamless sleep.


	46. Chapter 46: Unrest in the Alienage

_**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** Bits of adultish content scattered amongst this chapter, but nothing graphic at all! Always like to warn people just in case though :) _

_Muse tune for this chapter: My Heart is Broken - Evanescence  
><em>

_Thanks as usual to my readers, followers and reviewers for riding along! We're nearing the end of Book Two! _

_Additional thanks to my Lady Beta, **artemiskat**._

_Happy Reading to all!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Forty-Six: Unrest in the Alienage<strong>_

As the company moved forward into the Denerim Alienage, Alistair tried to suppress that had stirred within him for Elissa's deteriorating mental state. As the morning progressed, she became increasingly withdrawn from the group and seemed to heavily favor her injured limb though both Wynne and Morrigan had assured him that she was in fighting condition. He began to wonder how much of her pain was psychological, watching as she brushed her thumb against the smooth metal that hung from the cord beneath her breast plate. The assassin tossed a glance back at him, catching the motion with his studious eyes. The realization that she wore Nathaniel's trinket once again, and the possible implications of that act weighed heavy on them both.

Alistair tried not to think too hard about it, afraid that in doing so he would be inviting there to be a problem where there was none. Elissa had assured him that she loved him, and he had felt it to be true as they joined together in the warmth of the bed that they shared – but sometimes, underneath the harsh light of day, he wondered if he wasn't still competing with the ghost of the man that he could never be.

"I cannot believe how horrific this place is." Elissa said, her face wrinkling in disgust as she passed yet another animal corpse left to rot in a nearby alleyway. "I always thought Father exaggerated when he spoke of the conditions in which other City Elves were forced to live."

"Unfortunately your Highever was a rarity when it comes to elves outside of the Dalish encampments." Zevran said, bringing her attention to a tattered sign that warned the residents of the alienage against bearing arms - the punishment for which was death.

"I will speak to Lanaya about this once things calm down a bit." Elissa said, snatching the notice from the wall furiously and crumbling it up in her hand. "These people are malnourished and sick… this... this is **reprehensible**. I know that the Dalish and the City Elves do not normally interact, but Lanaya is formerly a member of the community. I am certain she will at the very least have some ideas on improvement."

"Pardon me, miss," a haggard young elf said, his voice pulling her attention from the large crowd gathered near the Vhenadahl tree. "Can you spare a silver for a war veteran?"

"What battle were you injured in?" Elissa asked, noting the tree limb he used as a cane and the way he clearly favored his right leg to his left.

"Ostagar, miss," the elf replied, wincing at the mention of the name. "Darkspawn there took off half my foot, though I suppose I was lucky in the end…"

"Indeed you were." Elissa replied, reaching into her pack and pulling free a coin purse from which she withdrew a single sovereign – ignoring Morrigan's hiss of disapproval from behind her. "Here, find a warm bed and some food to eat. The cold damp of this place can't be good for that injury."

"Oh, Andraste bless you, ser!" the elf replied, eyes gone wide at her generosity when he realized it was gold and not silver that she pressed into his dirty palm. "I won't forget your face, no I won't!"

The man tottered off then, and Elissa placed her attention back on the crowd.

"Best we avoid them until we can look around a bit more." Alistair said, following her gaze and smiling at the warmth of her heart. Elissa may have been a noble, but money meant little to hear aside from what it could provide for others. "More than likely to find trouble if we involve ourselves in that business, so I'd rather avoid it if we can."

Elissa merely nodded in response, following his lead as they skirted the main bulk of the crowd and proceeded down a nearby alleyway. Elves sat on their stoops and on rickety wooden bridges built over dredge water that ran off from Maker only knew where, coughing and glaring at her group in general displeasure. It pained Elissa that she could not stop to do more for them, but she understood the urgency of their visit. It was important that they got what they had come for and returned to Eamon's Estate before Loghain got word of what they were up to.

Eventually they came across a Templar, who explained a bit of the elves high tempers with his description of Howe's purge of the Orphanage that stood nearby. The facility was virtually destroyed, and they lost the man in the end to the demons who had taken up residence there, feeding off the terror and fury of the spirits trapped within. Elissa wondered if Highever Castle was such a place now, given over to terror and darkness, home to only what crossed over from beyond. It disheartened her to think that her childhood home would now be home only to the horrors of the Fade.

"I _dare_ any of you to argue that Howe did not deserve what he got now!" Elissa hissed, turning her eyes to each of them in turn as they made their way back out of the Orphanage. "You all saw what he did in there and those were **children**! Children that were cornered in the back room and then burned alive. What kind of monster _does_ that?"

"He's dead now, Elissa. He's paid for what he's done." Leliana encouraged, though Alistair shook his head frantically from behind Sten's shoulder, having seen the look in Elissa's eyes enough times to know she would not see reason no matter how logically it was presented to her. "Perhaps it is time to let it go, to begin healing."

"Let it go!" Elissa spat, laughing bitterly. "I suspect I shall never truly let it go, sister. I wish that I could..."

Elissa moved forward to the crowd, looking for the woman that Zevran's contact had described and finding her yelling angrily near the rear of the large mass of bodies.

"I've got children at home!" one of the other elves yelled, glaring at the four mages and guards stationed by the front door of the building they surrounded. "I can't wait out here all day!"

"Then go home!" the woman Elissa was searching for yelled in response. "The best thing you can do for your children is not to trust these charlatans!"

"Everyone remain calm," one of the mages said, glaring angrily at the instigator for a moment before turning back to the bulk of the crowd. "We can help many of you **today**, so long as you conduct yourselves in an orderly fashion."

"Oh, I see… you're **helping** us, are you shem?" the angry elf hissed, glaring at the robed men venomously. "Like you helped Valendrian and my uncle Cyrion? You **helped** them never to be seen again!"

"We've explained this to you before, **girl**," the mage replied, sighing heavily. "Another day of your whining will **not** convince me to let you in to the quarantine to carry the plague back out into the Alienage."

"Quit trying to get us all killed, Shianni!" a nearby elf hissed, narrowing his eyes at her. "Some of us still have things worth living for!"

Having heard the woman's name, Elissa verified with Zevran that she was indeed the one they were looking for – before moving forward to speak with her.

"I heard there was trouble here." Elissa said, watching Shianni turn to her mid yell – her face losing none of its venom though the smile Elissa offered was genuine. "Any chance I could be of help?"

"What's wrong, shem? Did you get bored in your fancy house and decide to come down to the Alienage to watch some elves die of the plague?" Shianni replied, looking over Elissa and her expensive armor with disgust before turning an equally unimpressed eye over the group of her companions - something about the gathered group finally shooting a spark of recognition through her mind. "Wait… Soris told me about you! You're the ones who freed him from the dungeons."

"Your brother was unfairly imprisoned." Alistair said, watching the elf's eyes swing over to him suspiciously. "No one should be locked up simply for defending themselves from tyranny."

"Unfortunately, few of your kind would support that belief." Shianni sneered, glaring back out toward the mages. "Like these foreigners here, for instance. They claim they're here to help us fight the plague outbreak – funny thing is, anyone they _help_ disappears."

"That's not true and you know it, Shianni!" a nearby elf snipped. "Both my sisters got the Tevinter spell cast on them and they're just fine."

"Where's your niece then? And my uncle Cyrion? And Valendrian?" Shianni retorted, folding her arms angrily across her chest.

"This makes no sense, if there is a plague then why allow all of these people to mill about on the street?" Elissa said, eying the large group suspiciously.

"And why call in mages from Tevinter to combat it?" Wynne added, Alistair nodding in agreement.

"I think we need to get a look inside that hospice." Elissa said, beginning to move forward through the crowd.

"They won't just let you in!" Shianni insisted, fighting through behind her trying to keep close enough that Elissa could still hear her.

"I hadn't planned on asking." Elissa replied, winking at the elf.

"Wait, Elissa… those are magisters." Alistair said, reaching forward and tugging her arm hard enough to bring her to a stop. "Even if you were in prime condition it would be unwise of us to instigate them without a plan. As is… you're still recovering."

"You're right." Elissa reluctantly admitted, and Alistair could see the wheels turning in her head as she began fumbling with the straps of her breast plate.

"What are you doing?" Alistair said, his eyes flickering around and noting the many people who were now attentively watching her.

"Coming up with a plan." Elissa replied, pulling the leather armor free and tucking it into her pack – handing the whole thing and her swords over to Sten for safe keeping. "I'm going to gain access through the front."

"Gain access _how_, exactly?" Alistair asked, his eyes dipping down to the vast amount of exposed skin now that she stood in only her chemise and breast band.

"Exactly how you think." Elissa winked, patting him on the arm. "Don't worry… it's all for show. You are going to come in through the back after I've created a distraction and we'll proceed from there."

"This is a decidedly bad plan." Alistair insisted, not sure whether he believed it because she was headed off to seduce another man or because she was going to be inside for a few moments unarmed and out of his sight. The last time he'd lost sight of her, she'd nearly died and they'd both ended up imprisoned and tortured in Fort Drakon.

"Our other option is to force our way in, and as you already noted, I'm still recovering." Elissa said, holding his eyes. "I'm more than happy to bloody a few more of Howe's lackeys, but I thought you'd rather I not if it can be helped. It is up to you, I will follow your lead."

"Fine." Alistair caved, seeing that of the options she presented – the first was the least likely to result in one of them being injured. "But take no unnecessary risks, Elissa, I mean it."

"I'll see you inside." Elissa replied, popping up on her toes to kiss him quickly then pushing her way through the rest of the crowd to the front as her companions slipped down the nearby alleyway.

* * *

><p>It took remarkably little effort for Elissa to get one of the mages to take her inside, and an equally small amount to keep the mage occupied once they were. He seemed content to kiss at her neck and manhandle her breasts, mumbling some nonsense about giving her a <em>proper examination<em> that brought her very close to laughter on a number of occasions.

"That will be enough of that, thanks," came Alistair's voice from the back of the room, thick with annoyance as he watched the mage fumble to drop his robes back into place.

"W-where did you come from?" the mage stuttered, drawing back from Elissa as she moved over to join the rest of her company. "Guard!"

"Your guard is indisposed at the moment." Zevran said, winking to Elissa as he tossed her pack over and took possession of her weapons from Sten. "My apologies. He'll probably have a bit of a headache when he wakes."

"You'll pay for this you bitch," the mage hissed, glaring at Elissa and pulling magic into his hands as he advanced.

"I don't think so." Alistair replied, siphoning the mana right out of him and watching him collapse to the floor, winded and useless.

"Yeah, I probably should have mentioned that." Elissa said, sucking her teeth as she buckled up the last of her armor. "My boyfriend's a bit of a Templar. Tends to get a bit touchy when people threaten me with magic."

The mage started to reply, or perhaps call out for more guards – but never made it there as Morrigan tossed a sleep spell at him that left him drooling against the dirty floor.

"Boyfriend?" Alistair smirked, pulling her in for a quick kiss and ignoring the exaggerated gagging noises Morrigan made in response as she wandered by.

"Is that title not sufficient?" Elissa asked, smirking back at him - making Alistair forget how off she'd been in the face of her smile.

"It will do for now." Alistair chuckled, allowing her to walk over to inspect the stack of the papers that Zevran was already thumbing through.

"There are lists of weights and ages here." Leliana pointed out, tugging a few of the pages free from the assassin's hands. "And a request for... six females and four males with the next shipment."

"There's also this." Oghren hiccuped, bumbling back out of the door he'd accidentally stumbled through when reaching for his hip flask. Inside the door were several large mabari cages holding emaciated elves, a couple of whom hadn't survived whatever had brought them there.

"Help us! Please," one of the elven men pleaded. "We're not sick, I swear!"

"I know you're not." Elissa hissed, rushing forward and beginning to pick the lock on the nearest cage – motioning Zevran and Leliana over to work on the other two cages. "Hold on, we'll get you out."

They discussed his imprisonment briefly once they were released, Wynne and Morrigan patching the group up the best they could and verifying that there were, as suspected, no traces of any sort of plague among them – before sending the frightened group on their way out the side door and following behind.

"Keep quiet and stick to the back alleys and you should be fine. That group out front hasn't noticed that we've busted up their inside operation yet." Elissa assured them, pressing some coin into the man's hand. "Get your people to safety somewhere warm and dry and get some food and water. I will check on you once I'm done here."

"Oh, thank you, ser!" the grateful man said, bowing and clutching her hand briefly before shuffling his group down the alleyway behind them.

* * *

><p>The further into the Alienage they went, the deeper Elissa sank into her anger and despair.<p>

"I'm sorry, I just can't wrap my mind around how someone could **allow** other living creatures to exist in these conditions…" Elissa said, shaking her head sadly and eying the rapidly deteriorating conditions of the Alienage Apartments they now pressed into.

"This **is** Howe we're talking about, Elissa." Alistair reminded her, reaching over to squeeze her hand gently. "The man wasn't exactly known for his attentive care of the common man… or the noble man when you get right down to it."

"That's the problem, Alistair… _this_ isn't Howe." Elissa said, passing a hand out in front of her so that the group would look, **really** look at the world around them. "The new stuff, the _clinic_, what happened at the Orphanage – that stuff, certainly, but the rest of this… These poor elves have been subjected to these conditions for a **long** time."

"You think Arl Kendall _allowed_ this?" Alistair asked, what Elissa was saying suddenly dawning on him.

"I don't think he allowed whatever it is that Anora sent us here to look in on, I think he was killed to prevent interference with that… the squalor, however, _that_ was allowed – either voluntarily or through simple ignorance… and either way, it leaves me feeling sick." Elissa responded, swallowing hard against the welling feelings of guilt inside her over the suffering of these people. "In Highever, Father… we never…" She swallowed again, pressing at her eyes closed and willing away the tears. "I guess it never occurred to me that people could live this way."

"Elissa…" Alistair said, reaching over to comfort her and watching when she flinched away from him wiping angrily at her eyes and pressing forward through the door. He knew that she saw these breaks in her facade as weakness, and so he simply let her go.

The conditions inside the Apartments did not improve, so by the time they stumbled across a lone elf digging through a large pile of refuse in a back hall for anything worth salvaging – Elissa's mood was bitter and dark.

"Who's there?" the man hissed, eyes going wide as he pressed back against the wall in fear, eying the weapons of the group cautiously. "Stay away!"

"We're not here to hurt you. We only want to help." Elissa assured him, holding her hands out at her sides so that he could see she was unarmed. "I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about what's happening here in the Alienage."

"I can't say nothing. _Please_, just go!" the elf whispered, eying the space around him as though attackers would come out of the very walls. "I don't want no more trouble."

"And I don't wish to bring you any." Elissa insisted, reaching into her pack slowly so as not to startle the skittish man and retrieving a small coin purse which she tossed over to him. "There, take that. If anyone questions you after we've left, then you can say that I paid you. Even the Tevinters won't fault you for that."

"A-all right…" the elf said, opening the purse and inspecting the coin inside before tucking it away and shuffling closer to Elissa to whisper what he knew. "I saw them take _everyone_. Took them right out of their beds. Dragged them down the hallways. Maker, the little ones were crying…"

"That's awful…" Alistair muttered, hanging his head in shame though the sin was not his own.

"They marched them through the halls, all tied together like a pack of mules," the elf continued, his voice breaking with sorrow the longer he continued. "Every few days they come back. It's like watching a silent parade… men, women, _children_…"

"This **has** to stop, Elissa." Leliana insisted, her eyes pleading.

"If you think I would allow this to continue, anywhere, _ever_, then you truly don't know me, sister." Elissa hissed, patting the frightened elf and sending him on his way.

Every room they passed through on their way through the ragged Apartments only served to add to Elissa's ire. There was increased evidence that the elves who had lived here were pried right out of their everyday lives and spirited away to wherever the Tevinters were taking them. In the last room before the back alley door, there was a full table of food, rotting away on plates and serving dishes.

"These people were just sitting down to dinner." Alistair noted, kicking a wayward toy out of its spot on the floor and shivering at the thought of what had happened to the child it once belonged to. "They had no warning… no time to prepare, to say goodbye…"

"Let's keep moving." Elissa said, tossing aside a broken piece of vase she had been inspecting after finding a chunk of blood and hair stuck to it – clearly not all of these elves had survived the taking.

* * *

><p>They gave up their ruse in the Apartment's back alley when the group of guards they encountered seemed reluctant to believe they were a part of Loghain's patrols. Alistair watched Elissa as they battled, sharing a look with the assassin at one point when she just barely made it out of the way of a guardsman's sword.<p>

She no longer favored her injured leg, so it wasn't injury that made her thus. It seemed more to her companions that she'd simply lost the heart to fight, something that happened in the shadows of that room with Rendon Howe had pulled the will to live right out of her.

It was more terrifying than her injury because as long as Alistair had known her, even right after the tragedy in her home, Elissa had always been a fighter. It was almost as if now that Howe was gone, there was nothing left to keep her going – and to see her beginning to give up was disheartening for them all.

"Elissa, are you…" Alistair began, attempting to reach out to her again as she sheathed her sword and pressed forward into the warehouse at the alley end.

"I'm fine, I'm just tired…" Elissa assured him, ignoring the looks which passed through her group as she pressed inside to find a group of armed men led by a petite elven woman.

"What is the meaning of this?" the woman hissed, folding her arms over her chest in annoyance and gesturing for her men to arm themselves. "We were told there would be no interference from the authorities!"

"Well, _we_ are not the _authorities_, so there's your problem." Alistair replied, smiling at her and then clearing his throat when she continued to frown angrily in return.

"Ah, an errant group of do gooders then…" the woman snorted, shaking her head. "You will regret this, you know. Believe it or not we have been given dispensation to do our business here."

"Dispensation?" Elissa asked, eyes narrowing as she inspected the woman – the pieces finally falling into place in her mind.

"You Fereldens talk a great deal about how **wrong** slavery is, but isn't it funny how quickly the smell of gold overcomes such ideals…" the woman snickered, her men joining in her hateful glee as her words settled heavily on the group in front of her.

"You're **slavers**?" Alistair gasped, eyes gone wide in horror.

"It is _so_ very difficult to get new blood. These elves of yours will fetch an excellent price in the Imperium, and we are paying handsomely for the opportunity to harvest them," the woman explained, continuing to offer her smug smile to the group. "But, enough chatter, I am here to halt your slaughter of my men, not to discuss the merits of slavery with you."

"Step aside or I will simply add yours to the trail of bodies that seem to follow behind me." Elissa assured the woman, pulling free her blades.

"I am no fool," the woman snorted, shaking her head. "I can see that you are capable of doing exactly what you say. What will it take to leave here with my life and my men?"

"I am certain it will take a great deal more than you can offer." Elissa replied, having no intention of letting this group go – not now that she knew what they'd been up to.

"Pity," the woman replied, freeing her bow and backing into a corner while her men charged forward.

It was a quick battle, as had become the norm with Elissa's group, and after shifting the bodies out of the way – she and Zevran set about disarming the last group of traps before the rear room of the warehouse.

"Use caution, Elissa." Wynne said, reaching over to touch her arm as she reached for the door to the next room. "These people mention Caladrius with such reverence it leads me to believe he is a magister, which means he is not to be taken lightly."

"Okay – you can stop it. You can _all_ stop it." Elissa said, leaning against the door and turning her eyes wearily around the room.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." Alistair replied, speaking for the group when no one else seemed capable of doing so - all falling silent in the face of Elissa's wrathful accusations.

"I'm neither blind nor stupid, Alistair – I've seen the way you keep looking at me. The way you've been looking at me all day. Could you just, stop it?" Elissa insisted, rubbing the bridge of her nose and sighing heavily. "I assure you, I have no wish to die here… not today…"

"That is not nearly as reassuring as I would have liked for it to be…" Alistair muttered, moving through the door behind her when she pressed it open.

"I suggest that you make do for now, because it is the best that I can offer you." Elissa shrugged – walking up to the edge of the balcony in front of them and passing her eyes down to the mage and large group of soldiers in the lower room.

"Well, hello," the mage said, seeming completely unconcerned as he smiled up at her. "I am Caladrius, and **you**, I assume, must be the Grey Warden I have heard _so_ much about."

"You've heard of me?" Elissa replied, her forehead creasing as she wondered why anyone in the Alienage would be discussing her.

"One can hardly get a word out of Loghain these days that isn't _Warden_." Caladrius chuckled, pacing a bit closer to the balcony. "It seems to have surpassed even _gold_ in its popularity."

"Well, if you've _heard_ of me – then I assume you've also _heard_ how frightened you should be to find yourself facing the business end of my sword." Elissa said, smiling maliciously as she leaned forward across the balcony bar – playing the part of the menace as well as she could manage.

"Now, now… is this how we begin?" Caladrius chuckled, unphased by her threats. "All that bluster from such a beautiful young lady. I can see in your carriage that you are nobility, or were at one time. Surely you were trained in proper civility."

"Civility?" Elissa snorted, standing back up and crossing her arms. "I suppose I _could_ bash in your skull with civility if you'd like? I suspect that's about as much civility as you offered to the elves you dragged off into slavery against their will."

"Business is business my dear Warden." Caladrius smiled, pacing a bit further away from her when he could see that he wasn't making much process in calming her temper. "Even so, your point is made… you _do_ frighten me… but you also intrigue me."

"Honestly, I'm fine with the terror part – but I'm starting to tire of the awe." Elissa sighed, shaking her head. "Couldn't you just run about screaming or something? I'm really not interesting enough to warrant otherwise."

"You are _very_ interesting, or perhaps it is more the rumor of what you are doing that is interesting…" Caladrius said, chuckling a bit. "I have heard that you are steadily eroding Loghain's support within the nobility here. I imagine that has been a difficult task for you, and I thought that you might need some help securing the remainder of what you will need to completely overthrow the man."

"Oh, I can't wait to hear this." Elissa laughed, leaning over the bar once again and folding her fingers patiently. "Go ahead then, _slaver_, give me your best sales pitch."

"Sarcasm is beneath us both, my dear." Caladrius sneered, clearing his throat before continuing. "Nevertheless, here is my offer – one hundred sovereigns from you, and I shall provide a letter bearing the seal of the Teyrn of Gwaren upon it, which will implicate him in all of this. Once that exchange has been made, we will leave here with our profits and our remaining slaves, unharmed."

"I feel dirty even having heard that." Alistair said, looking to Elissa from the corner of his eye but unable to read her expression. "Tell me we aren't _actually_ considering that offer."

"Do we have a deal?" Caladrius called up, feeling as though he may have a chance to succeed if her companions were that concerned that she would falter. "You must admit it is much better than resorting to barbarism, and, we would both leave with what we came for."

"I don't think that deal is going to cut it for me, I'm afraid." Elissa said, pulling herself up and strolling slowly down the side stairs to the level where Caladrius and his soldiers stood. "But, I do have a counter offer."

"Interesting…" Caladrius said, smiling fully and inspecting the woman now standing a foot away from him with a careful eye as the rest of her companions descended the stairs behind her.

"You leave _everything_, including the letter from Teyrn Loghain, and I _consider_ letting you leave with your hides." Elissa replied, meeting his smile with one of her own.

"Now that's not much of a **deal**, is it?" Caladrius sighed, pulling loose his weapon and sending his men into motion as Elissa did the same. "I suppose we must do this the hard way then."

Wynne was right, Caladrius was a force to be reckoned with – though his men were easily cut down. Elissa eventually had to call for Alistair's assistance, watching him smite the man to silence which left him completely vulnerable to the point of Elissa's sword.

"Search his pockets." Elissa instructed, sheathing her swords and abandoning the group for the back alley – suddenly needing fresh air lest she topple over in front of them.

When Alistair found her, she was staring off into the distance and worrying with the cord that held Nathaniel's ring. His stomach knotted at the sight of it, but he forced himself to ignore the discomfort and speak with her instead.

"We've got what we need." Alistair said, coming forward to stand beside her but hesitant to touch her - it seemed as though the closer she was, the further away she seemed to be. "Zevran found documents with Loghain's seal that authorized the sale of the Alienage elves into slavery in Tevinter. He won't be able to deny the accusations now."

"Promise me something." Elissa said, completely ignoring what he'd just said lost in thought as she was.

"Anything." Alistair replied, realizing he would indeed swear whatever she wanted if it would pull her back from wherever she had gone.

"If we succeed, if you take the throne, promise me you will fix this." Elissa said, flickering her eyes over to him again and holding them steadily. "These people don't deserve to live like this."

"You have my word." Alistair assured her, reaching over to take and squeeze her hand before he turned them back to Eamon's estate.

* * *

><p>Elissa had begged Alistair to deal with Eamon this time, claiming she was too emotionally drained to manage the false politeness he would require. As much as he did not want to do so, he found himself caving to her request at the look of complete despair and exhaustion in her eyes – insisting that she should return to their room and have a bath before dinner.<p>

She did just that, intending to lie down until Alistair came to retrieve her – but ultimately finding herself unable to relax enough to do so. Eventually she simply gave up and pulled on her boots, leaving to wander the halls and quiet her mind.

When she found herself up on the ramparts staring out at the setting sun of the Denerim dusk, she was not surprised. Thinking back, it seemed an endless string of nights she had spent on the ramparts of one building or another – ever since her lagoon had become more caustic than comfort. She wondered if somewhere, at that very moment, Nathaniel stood looking out at the same horizon.

She could sense the Warden approaching the stairs that would bring him up to her long before she saw or heard him, and knew instantly that it was not Alistair. The logical part of her mind cautioned her to leave before he arrived – to simply take the stairs down the other end and go back to her room to wait for Alistair.

The core of her – the part that believed Flemeth had been right, the part that _knew_ no matter how much she loved Alistair - it would only end in heartache, the part that wanted nothing more than to scour every inch of the city until she found Nathaniel once again – **that** part willed her to stay. And that part was louder and louder as the days passed, drowning out the voice of her sensible self, of that innocent truehearted girl she once had been.

"Warden," came Riordan's voice from behind her, though there was no surprise in his words. He had sensed her just as she had sensed him, had probably come seeking her - pulled by the insistent tug of her blood from wherever he had previously been.

"Call me Lissa," she said, offering her nickname to this man she hardly knew. It was something she had not given even to Alistair and she had shared his bed for weeks on end, but it was something else he needed to play the role she'd cast him in.

"Alright, Lissa it is," he replied, and she allowed herself to relish the sound of it, Orlesian accented though it was.

"It has been a very long time since anyone has called me that." Elissa continued, still unable to turn to face him – content to dwell in fantasy for a moment longer.

"You should have it used more often." Riordan said, turning to lean against the wall and face her. "It is a beautiful name."

"It belongs to a dead woman," she replied, flicking her emerald eyes over to his subtle blue – they weren't quite right, but they were close enough – close enough to feed her illusion.

"I see," he answered, not questioning – not pressing for more, simply accepting her words at face value – a quality Elissa enjoyed, and assumed must come with age.

"Is the whole world like this, I wonder… so full of tragedy and terror…" Elissa mused, staring off into the distance again. "I'm still young, I've barely even been a Warden for a year and I feel as though I've seen a lifetime of horrors paraded in front of me." She turned back to Riordan. "How do you do it? How do you stand in the face of this and remain unchanged?"

"You don't." Riordan replied, stepping closer to her – allowing his hip to press against her own where he leaned against the wall at her side and smiling when she closed her eyes at the sensation. "I am not the same man I was when I chose this path years ago."

"Are you better?" she asked, opening her eyes and swallowing against the heat building inside her.

"I don't know that _better_ is the word for it, but I'm certainly not worse," he chuckled, reaching over to tuck her hair behind her ear where it had tossed free in the breeze of the Denerim evening. "Changing does not always mean losing who we are. It simply requires accepting who we become."

His hand lingered on her jaw, thumb dipping forward to trace the bottom of her lip and causing her to shiver. She knew she should pull away, she should turn and go now, before it was too late… but she could not. Instead she stood, watching and waiting as he leaned in to kiss her.

His lips lingered a few inches from her own, the taint humming from his blood through to hers – surging heavier and heavier with each beat of their rapidly thumping hearts. She could feel the air of his breath tickling against her mouth, and began to close her eyes before she sensed the _other_ Warden approaching.

"Alistair…" Elissa whispered, eyes going wide as she pressed a hand against Riordan's chest – increasing the distance between them and struggling to compose herself. "I-I have to go. Tell him… tell him I've gone to get something to eat and that I'll meet him in the room."

"Of course." Riordan replied, his eyes still dark with the desire that coursed between them as he watched her disappear in the tower at the other side of the wall.


	47. Chapter 47: The End of a Legacy

_**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** And here it is, the Landsmeet :) I fought with this chapter quite a bit and I'm still not completely satisfied with it - but here it is. I hope any bumbles are forgiven!_

_Muse music: Impermanence by Assemblage 23_

_Thanks to my readers, followers and reviewers - and to my Lady Beta, **artemiskat** for the extra special encouragement on this one!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Forty-Seven: The End of a Legacy<strong>_

"Are you ready for this?" Elissa asked, straightening Alistair's armor and inspecting him for even the tiniest speck of blood or magister bits before she shuffled them off to meet up with the others and travel over to the Palace for the Landsmeet. Eamon had left some time before, irritated when Elissa wanted a few more minutes with Alistair to make sure he was prepared - though she suspected that had less to do with the possibility they might be late than the idea that it was not **him** who had his nephew's ear.

"Are there actually people who **are** ready for this sort of thing?" Alistair asked, swallowing nervously and mussing his hair with his anxious fingers – setting Elissa to work fixing it for the tenth time that morning. "I'll do my best, Elissa… you know that…" He groaned, clutching at his abdomen and gagging. "I think my stomach just twisted up in a knot or something."

"You don't _have_ to do this, Alistair." Elissa insisted, tilting his chin up with her fingers and holding his eyes – searching for the certainty she required. "I told you I would never force you into this, and I won't… but once we walk through those doors, this course is set for us. I need to know you want this before I throw my weight behind it. If you truly do not want the throne, then tell me now and we walk away."

"You would do that for me?" Alistair asked, searching her eyes in return – his confidence had been shaken over the past few days – between her melancholia and finding her in Riordan's company on several occasions, both of them lingering closer to one another than he would have liked.

"What, not put you on the throne? Absolutely." Elissa replied, brow knotting in confusion. "You thought I would force you?"

"No, I…" Alistair began, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. "It's nothing, I'm just nervous. Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?" Elissa asked, watching him turn away from her and gather his weapons in preparation to leave.

"Yup, I'm fine." Alistair replied, smiling at her when he turned back, and watching her nod in reply before sliding out their door.

He opened his hand, looking at the gold band that sat there – the one he'd slid loose from his brother's finger before they offered him to the pyre, and prayed to the Maker to guide him through the day.

* * *

><p>"Warden Cousland" was the first thing Elissa heard as she walked through the entry doors to the main hall of the Royal Palace.<p>

"That can't be good," she muttered, holding Alistair's eyes for a moment at the use of her proper name, before glancing to her left to find Ser Cauthrien and a large contingent of soldiers standing there in the shadows of the hall. "Cauthrien… I wish I could say I was surprised."

"But you are not, and neither am I," the woman sneered, striding forward to stand between them and the doors that would take them onto the floor of the Landsmeet chamber. "And _Alistair_, if you were even **remotely** worthy of being called Maric's son, you would already **be** in the Landsmeet, wouldn't you?"

Alistair bristled at the insult, but Elissa reached over and calmed him with a hand on his arm – willing him to avoid bloodshed unless it became impossible to do so. The last thing they needed was for him to show up in the grand hall covered in the blood of their rivals.

"Come now, Cauthrien – stand aside." Elissa said, keeping her voice as level as possible. "We didn't come here to fight. We only wish to speak our peace."

"Ah, yes… you came here to _talk_… in much the same way you _talked_ to Rendon Howe, or that guardsman we left outside your cell in Fort Drakon." Cauthrien snorted, her eyes cold and hard. "You are a black widow, Elissa Cousland, and you have torn Ferelden apart to oppose the very man who ensured that you were born into freedom."

"I have done nothing of the sort." Elissa snipped, her temper rising. "Every decision I have made has been for the good of Ferelden, many of them at great personal cost. If you are looking to blame someone for the civil unrest, I suggest you look a bit closer to home – and if you allow us through those doors, I am certain that the nobility will tell you that themselves."

"Do not think you will get past me to desecrate the Landsmeet, child." Cauthrien sneered, crossing her arms angrily. "The nobles of Ferelden will confirm my Lord as Regent, and we will finally put all this behind us… once _you_ are gone."

"You are not a stupid woman, Cauthrien… do you really not see what Loghain has become?" Elissa asked, trying to reason with her but knowing it would fall on deaf ears.

"Your silver tongue will not work on me, Warden." Cauthrien insisted, pulling free her sword. "There are not words in any language that could convince me to betray my Lord… now, let us end this."

"As you wish." Elissa replied, pulling free her own swords and dancing out of the way of Cauthrien's first blow.

Alistair was happy to see that she had regained some of her focus, the fight with Cauthrien going much smoother than any of her battles from their trip to the Alienage. She danced around the woman, dipping and rolling – more the Elissa he had known those first days in Ostagar than the woman she had become over the past few days. If it hadn't been so inappropriate, he would have laughed out loud when she rolled to the side to avoid the spray of blood from the woman's neck as her torso toppled forward following the loss of her head.

"Here, add that to your collection." Elissa cried, retrieving Cauthrien's blade and tossing it over to Sten who inspected it with a critical eye then anchored it at his back. "Stupid woman…" She walked over to Alistair, using her sword to cut a swath of the nearby tapestry and then using the cloth to wipe as much of the blood off of him as possible.

"Hey! They're going to make us replace that!" Alistair hissed, looking fearful and fighting against her grip as she wiped at his face.

"**You** are about to be **they**, in case you have forgotten." Elissa insisted, hissing at him when he pulled away from her and grappling with him again long enough to fix his hair. "If you want me to pay to replace that gaudy tapestry that Cailan hung on the wall once you take the throne, then I will suffer the cost of it rather than send you in there covered in blood."

"What about you?" Alistair asked, watching her toss the cloth into a corner. "You're more bloody than I am."

"That will work in _my_ favor, as I don't intend to put myself on the throne." Elissa chuckled, winking at him. "Besides, most of those people believe me to be a bloody murderess, might as well look the part."

She took one last breath, closing her eyes and trying to remember all of the things her father had taught her about proper conduct in such situations. The memory made her sad, and she faltered hesitantly against the wood grain for a moment, reaching up to press at the trinkets beneath her armor and siphon what comfort from them they had left to give.

When she opened her eyes again, she was resolute – pressing forward through the doors with bluster and leaving the others trailing in her wake.

* * *

><p>"My Lords and Ladies of the Landsmeet, Teyrn Loghain would have us give up our freedoms, our traditions, out of fear!" Eamon's voice cried, commanding and assured from the balcony to their right as they entered from the back of the chamber. "<strong>He<strong> placed us on this path of destruction, yet he believes we should continue to place our destiny in his hands? Must we sacrifice everything good about our nation in order to save it?"

"A _fine_ performance, Eamon… but no one here is taken in by it." Loghain's voice replied, from the floor somewhere out in front of them - the armor of his gauntlets clinking together lightly with his sarcastic offer of applause. "You want to put a puppet on the throne, and everyone here knows it, so I will not question your motives for this attack. The one question I _will_ ask is who **really** pulls the strings?"

The two men glared each other down as the sea of nobles parted for Elissa's company – turning the full attention of the room onto them as they made their way to the center of the chamber. She could hear the slight gasps from the nobility at her bloody visage, and even Loghain seemed to react - likely knowing from whence it came.

"Ah! Here we have the puppeteer!" Loghain sneered, glaring at Elissa as she came to a stop in front of him. "Tell us, _girl_, how **will** the Orlesians take our nation from us? Will they deign to send troops, or simply issue their commands through you to your would-be prince?" He paced closer to her, ignoring the spike of fury in her eyes as he mentioned the treasonous lies that had sentenced her family to death. "What did they offer your father? How much is the price of Ferelden honor now?"

"The Blight is the threat here, Loghain, as it has always been." Elissa replied, maintaining her calm façade with an ease Alistair had not seen from her – it was as though he was getting a glimpse into her past, into the woman she _could_ have been had Howe and the Blight not intervened and sent her careening in his direction. "We must focus our efforts there and not on this Orlesian ruse that Howe has fed to you."

"There are enough refugees in my Bannorn to make that fact abundantly clear." Bann Alfstanna cried out, tossing a nod and a half smile to Elissa.

"The south has fallen, Loghain!" Arl Wulff called, adding his voice to the mix. "Will you continue to let the darkspawn take the country for fear of Orlais?"

"The Blight is indeed real, Wulff… and I have never said that it was not… but we do not **need** Grey Wardens to fight it." Loghain insisted, raising his hands in an attempt to calm the mumbling now rumbling through the crowd. "They claim they alone can end the Blight, yet they failed spectacularly at Ostagar."

Elissa slapped a hand out quickly but subtly, landing strong against Alistair's forearm – willing him to remain calm and still in the face of Loghain's lies. She could sense the fury building in him with the insulting assertions about Duncan's duplicity, but she needed him to be the picture of serenity at this moment and she prayed he could understand that.

"Alright, Loghain… since you seem so insistent on bringing everyone's skeletons into the light today, would you care to address the Ferelden citizens you sold into slavery so that you could fund your war?" Elissa said, pulling the documents she had recovered from the Alienage out of the back of her armor where she had tucked them and passing them up to Bann Alfstanna to share with the others. "You can check those yourself, if you need. They bear your seal and are no forgery."

"What's this?" another nobleman hissed, inspecting the documents that Alfstanna held. "There is no _slavery_ in Ferelden. Explain yourself Regent!"

"There is no saving the Alienage." Loghain retorted, holding up his hands to calm the crowd once again and passing a menacing glare in Elissa's direction as he paced around the room with the most believable smile he could manage as the crowd shifted against him. "Damage from the riots has yet to be repaired. There are bodies rotting in their homes. There is no chance of holding it if the Blight comes here," he continued, coming to a stop in front of Elissa once again. "Despite what you may think, I have done my duty here. Whatever my regrets may be for the elves, I have done what was necessary for Ferelden."

"Oh, so you _let_ Howe burn their children, and you _allowed_ that monster to abduct and torture regular citizens for the _good_ of Ferelden?" Elissa asked, only the hiss of the dead Arl's name betraying the calm front she continued to put forward to the room – but even that was quickly covered beneath her smile.

"The Warden is right!" a nearby man cried out, and Elissa recognized him as the father of the man they had rescued from Howe's dungeons a few days ago. "Howe took my only son! The things done to him at the hands of that… that… some are beyond any healer's skill."

"Howe was a grown man, and thus responsible for his own actions." Loghain replied calmly, crossing his arms across his broad chest. "He has answered to you for those crimes, already, has he not? His fate lies now in the hands of the Maker, as does the fate of us all… but enough of this. I have a question for you, Warden. **Where. Is. My. Daughter**?"

"I believe I can speak for myself." Anora's voice echoed, and Elissa's eyes flickered over to her where she lingered near the doorway at the back hall. "Lords and Ladies of Ferelden, hear me!" she strode forward, all the poise and grace of her years of noble training echoing through every delicate footfall as she came to stand across from her rival once again. "This _woman_ has slandered and defamed Ferelden's greatest hero in a bid to put her lover on Maric's throne."

"I should have known better than to believe you'd see past your own greed, Anora." Elissa said, shaking her head and chuckling softly. "I suppose you've been planning this all along?"

"My father will **always** do what needs to be done for Ferelden, and it is clear to me now – that _you_ will not." Anora replied, her cold eyes glittering from her pale face like ice.

"Meaning I would _not_ support you." Elissa replied, offering a cold glare of her own. "Other than that, I fail to see how _anything_ I have done was not with the needs of Ferelden as the driving force behind it."

"Who here can say that Anora is not fit to rule this land? Who here can say that Alistair is?" Loghain cried out, sending more mutters filtering through the crowd around them and ignoring the battle of wills passing between his daughter and her rival at the center of it all. "We know nothing of this _boy_, other than Eamon's assertions that he _may_ have royal blood."

"Come now, Loghain." Elissa snickered, watching his eyes come back to her again. "Even your daughter admits how much he _resembles_ Cailan. You can question all else, but his blood is clear to anyone with eyes."

Alistair shifted uncomfortably behind her, watching all eyes shift to him as though they could read something in his features. He cleared his throat and tried to pretend as though it didn't bother him that even Elissa seemed to see his dead half-brother in his face.

"The Warden! I'm with the Warden," one of the nobles called out, and Elissa turned to see the face of Vaughn Kendalls beaming down at her – suddenly grateful that Alistair had spared him from Howe's prison when she, if conscious, would have left the lecherous idiot to rot.

"South Reach stands with the Grey Wardens," another cried out, followed by, "The Warden helped me _personally_ in a… family matter."

"Waking Sea stands with the Grey Wardens." Bann Alfstanna cried, holding Elissa's eyes with a terse nod.

"Dragon's Peak supports The Wardens," another noble cried, and Elissa heard Alistair draw in a breath to see just how much influence Elissa's voice apparently had.

"The Western Hills throw their lot in with The Wardens," Arl Wulff groused, crossing his arms but nodding respectfully to Elissa regardless. "Maker help us all."

"The Wardens, I stand with the Wardens!" another man cried out.

"The Blight is coming, we need the Grey Wardens," from yet another.

"The Landsmeet has spoken against you, Loghain." Eamon's voice cried, and Elissa allowed herself a small smile watching the man scramble to regain the focus of the room from where it had landed on the spot in which she and Alistair stood. "Step down gracefully."

"Traitors!" Loghain hissed angrily, stomping around the room and glaring at everyone who would dare to meet his eyes, pulling loose his sword in his fury – setting his men to action around him. "Which of _you_ stood against the Orlesian emperor when he flattened your fields and raped your wives?"

"Call off your men and let us settle this honorably." Elissa insisted, knowing that a bloody riot on the floor of the Landsmeet hall was the **last** thing they needed, regardless of how things seemed to be going in their favor.

"Then let us end this." Loghain assented, settling his men with a wave of his gauntleted hand. "I suppose we both knew it would come to this in the end."

"My father told me once that warriors are made by the quality of their enemies." Elissa replied, remembering the many tales of this man's heroism from the days of her youth. "Those words were Maric's, I believe."

"Indeed they were." Loghain snorted, a brief flash of a smile crossing his tired features. "I wonder now if that's more a compliment to you or me. But, enough of this banter… let the Landsmeet decide on the terms of this duel."

"It shall be fought according to tradition: a test of arms in single combat until one party yields." Bann Alfstanna explained, listening to the voices around her agree to those terms before she continued. "We who are assembled here, will abide by those terms at the conclusion."

"Will you face me yourself then, child, or have you a champion?" Loghain asked, passing his eyes across the sea of people loyal only to her.

Elissa heard Sten clear his throat behind her, and knew he expected to be called upon for this service, but she knew the message that must be sent here. These people had bent to _her_ will, and so she must continue to remain the steel backbone of their resolve, else they see it as her weakness.

"I will fight for myself." Elissa replied, bowing lightly to the man in front of her and listening to the muttered words of surprise and frustration as the crowd and her companions backed away to give them space.

"It is you or me they will follow – it has **always** been thus." Loghain answered, watching her free her blades. "Prepare yourself, Warden. I will not hand this to you easily."

"I would never have expected you to." Elissa replied, dancing aside as he swiped forward with his sword.

Loghain passed blow after blow at her, and Elissa dodged and danced, deflected and deterred. She began to realize that he was simply trying to get a read of her. While she had years of battle studies in this man's fighting prowess on which to draw – to him she was an unknown quantity, an enigma, and he found himself struggling in the face of it.

Eventually, Elissa found herself feeling sorry for the man, regardless of the things that he had done, of the way he had allowed himself to be manipulated by a hateful man wielding the weapon of his bigotry and fear.

He was an impressive fighter, not that she had ever doubted he would be. This man was a living piece of history, forged in fury and hard as stone. He had decades of experience, decades when she did not even breathe in this world. And yet… she could see him beginning to tire – the weight of his armor, the weight of his sword, the weight of his very life bearing down on him the more she danced outside of his range.

She could have let it go on longer. She could have humiliated him, he would likely have offered her no less were he the aggressor in their battle. But, looking over to Anora and seeing the fear in her eyes, Elissa could not bring herself to do it, and so she simply disarmed him – quickly and calmly, watching with oddly reverent eyes as this mountain of a man who had once been a hero to her in childhood knelt at her feet.

"I underestimated you, Lady Cousland. I thought you were like Cailan, a spoiled child playing at war." Loghain said, and he smiled at her – a soft smile, one given freely from a man who had finally realized the error of his ways. "I was wrong. There is a strength in you… one I have not seen since Maric died. I yield to you, Lady Cousland of Highever. Do with me as you will."

"You will die for what you've done." Alistair hissed, and Elissa's gaze followed Loghain's up to see the fury burning in his amber eyes – barely contained, barely manageable.

"Wait! There is another option…" came an Orlesian lilt from the back of the crowd, and Elissa watched the sea of faces part to reveal Riordan – forcing her to swallow nervously at the sight of him. "The Teyrn is a warrior and a general of great renown. Let him be of use, let him go through the Joining."

"You want to make him a Warden?" Alistair gasped, glaring at him then looking to Elissa for support but finding her simply watching the other Warden and waiting for him to continue.

"There are only **three** of us in all of Ferelden, Lissa…" Riordan said, and Elissa flinched that he would use that name here in front of all of these people – she could feel Alistair's fury building with the familiarity of his tone, but could do nothing to diffuse it at the moment and so simply let it go. "There are… compelling reasons to have as many Wardens as possible on hand to deal with the Archdemon."

"I have heard that this Joining is often fatal." Anora interjected, seeing that this new quantity seemed to have some odd influence over Elissa and latching right on at his casual use of what the Queen knew to be a very personal nickname. "If he survives, you gain a general… if not, then you have your revenge. Does that not satisfy you?"

"Absolutely not!" Alistair yelled, stomping forward and glaring angrily at Elissa, forcing her to acknowledge him. "This man abandoned our brothers and then blamed **us** for the deed! He hunted us down like animals and then he tortured us! I don't care if Howe influenced him or not, _Elissa_, you **cannot** forget that!"

"I'm sorry, Riordan." Elissa said, flickering her eyes over to the other Warden for a brief moment then turning them back to Alistair. "What will you have of me? This is your decision. I will follow it freely."

"Loghain should die for his crimes." Alistair replied, holding her eyes and watching her nod in reply.

"You can't **do** this!" Anora cried out, her calm face of nobility shattering into tears and anguish. "He may have been wrong, but my father is still a hero to the people!"

"Anora, hush, it's over." Loghain said, reaching over to comfort her for a moment – resigned to his fate.

"Stop treating me like a child!" Anora hissed, glaring at him. "This is serious!"

"Daughters never grow up." Loghain said, turning his eyes back to Elissa. "They remain six years old with pigtails and skinned knees forever, I suspect your father would have believed much the same." Elissa tried not to flinch at those words. "Just make it quick, Warden. I can face the Maker now, assured that Ferelden is in your capable hands."

"Give me your sword." Elissa said, handing her own to Sten and reaching a gloved hand in Alistair's direction.

"What? I… I can do this myself, Elissa." Alistair insisted, shaking his head at her.

"Give me your sword, Alistair." Elissa insisted, turning her eyes to him and holding them with a cool calm glare. "You do not want his blood on your hands."

Alistair simply nodded, shaken by her words and the hollow gleam in her eyes, reaching to free his father's blade and pass it over into her hands. A moment later Loghain's body dropped to the floor, his head rolling over to strike a nearby wall with a soft thud in the sudden silence of the Landsmeet hall.

"Then it is decided." Eamon's voice called out, shattering the void within the room and drawing attention back in his direction. "Alistair will take his father's throne."

"Wait, what? When did this…" Alistair stuttered, breathing hard as reality sank in and looking for some sort of reassurance in Elissa, but she simply stood there holding his sword in the growing pool of blood that flowed out of Loghain's headless body. "Shouldn't there be a vote or something?"

"He refuses the throne! Everyone here heard him!" Anora insisted, wiping away the tears from her eyes and rushing forward into the group. "I think it's clear then that he abdicates to me."

"I hardly think you're the appropriate person to mediate this, Anora." Eamon snorted, flickering his eyes over to Elissa and spurring her to action. "Warden, will you help us?"

Elissa looked up then, holding Alistair's eyes and watching him nod in reply – assuring her that he still intended to follow through with their plan.

"Alistair will take the throne." Elissa said, listening to the room erupt with voices either in support or quietly aghast, and turning to clean Maric's sword so that she could return it to its rightful owner.

"I will, on one condition." Alistair said, and Elissa turned back to him slowly – watching as he walked forward to her and dropped down on one knee reaching up for her hand. "I will take the throne, if you, Elissa Cousland, will consent to be my Queen."

"I… I…" Elissa stuttered, passing her eyes over the crowd and fighting the urge to give herself over to very inappropriate laughter.

She had been proposed to once before, under equally dire circumstances… and here she was again, looking down at a man whom she did not deserve – one who looked up at her, eyes expectant and heart full of love only for her. It would have been the fairytale ending she asked for after Flemeth had offered her predictions of the future, were it not for the pool of blood beneath them and the knowledge in Elissa's heart that it would only end in disaster.

Looking at him, watching the doubt flooding into his features at her hesitation – Elissa knew what she had to do. She _had_ to say yes, she had to continue to play the part – to do what was best for Ferelden, and what was best for Ferelden was to put Alistair on the throne. Let him have this moment, let her enjoy it herself… they deserved that much for all they had been through, for all they would continue to go through in the coming days.

"Yes." Elissa said, smiling down at him and raising an eyebrow as she watched him slide a signet she recognized as having belonged to Cailan onto her bare finger, wondering just how long ago he had come up with this plan of his.

"I was worried there for a moment." Alistair chuckled, standing and placing a swift kiss on her lips to the riotous applause of the crowd gathered around her – with a few notable abstainers. "This is where I wake up… usually… or everyone points and laughs because I've got no pants…"

"Not this time." Elissa quipped, chuckling when he indeed glanced down to ensure he was wearing something on his lower extremities, offering her most practiced smile to him and the room around them.

"Anora, the Landsmeet had decided against you." Eamon said, watching focus turn back to the former Queen as she pulled loose the golden circlet from her head and handed it over into Morrigan's greedy fingers – watching her saunter over to Elissa and place it into her hand with a smile. "You must swear fealty to your King and Queen and relinquish all claims to the throne for you or your heirs."

"If you think I will swear that oath, Eamon, you know _nothing_ of me." Anora hissed, glaring at the man and watching as Elissa uncomfortably passed her crown off to Eamon for proper storage.

"Anora, please be reasonable." Elissa pleaded, knowing her pride was injured but hoping somewhere the logical woman she had once known still lurked beneath her wounded skin.

"Be reasonable?" Anora snorted, glaring back at her rival. "Yes… Elissa, I'm sure **reason** was what drove your decision. It seems that you got your throne after all."

"We cannot leave Ferelden in a state of unrest. We must have unity." Eamon insisted, interrupting the staring contest and drawing both Alistair and Elissa's attention back to him. "If she will not swear fealty to you, then she is a threat."

"What do you want me to do, exactly?" Elissa hissed, glaring at the man. "Kill her? I'm sorry, Eamon, I can't do that. Enough blood has been shed here today."

"Well don't look at me!" Alistair snipped when Eamon turned in his direction. "If she won't do it, I certainly can't. I guess, put her in the tower… for now. Lock her up. Maybe we can find somewhere to send her. Later… much later…"

"Very well then." Eamon allowed, though clearly displeased as he motioned nearby guardsmen into action. "Take her away, and **do not** let her out of your sight."

Elissa and Alistair stood talking quietly, forcing Eamon to interrupt yet _again_ to assert the proper agenda.

"Your Highness, would you address the Landsmeet?" Eamon said, bowing lightly to Alistair who looked surprised for a moment before realizing it was _him_ to whom Eamon spoke.

"Oh… that would be me, wouldn't it?" Alistair said, clearing his throat nervously. "Right… um… your future Queen is actually much better with words, but I will do my best… I did not know my father, but from all I've heard of him, I know that he was defined by his commitment to protecting his land and its people."

"Just tell them what to do…" Elissa hissed, smiling over her instructions and hoping that no one other than him had heard.

"Everyone, get ready to march! It's going to take all of Ferelden's strength to survive this Blight – but together, we **will** see victory!" Alistair said, smiling as the hall erupted in cheers once again.

* * *

><p>Elissa had left with most of their company, save Leliana and Oghren, whom she suspected was under the misguided assumption that the Royal Palace would offer some sort of celebratory ale for Alistair's victory. She had made a beeline straight for their room upon reentering the estate, and forced herself not to leave it - sensing when Riordan returned, and lingered by their door - and breathing a great sigh of relief when he did not enter.<p>

When Alistair finally walked in, she was sitting in their bed scribbling in her journal. Her eyes flicked up to him and he leaned against the inside of the door and he braced himself for what was coming. Elissa did not like surprises, and so he knew that no matter how well she had covered it there in the hall – his proposal had not gone over well.

"So… strange story… tell me if you've heard this one." Elissa said, placing the journal against her lap and folding her hands atop it – drawing his eyes down to the gold band on her ring finger bearing the heraldry of his family, which it relieved him she was still wearing. "This fellow gets made King, then decides to go and get himself engaged all on the same night."

"You're angry, aren't you?" Alistair asked, starting to remove his gauntlets as he moved over to the armor stand beside the bed. "I knew you'd hate me springing it on you like that."

"I'm not exactly thrilled with the idea of being Queen, no." Elissa replied, but her voice held no venom.

"I'm not exactly thrilled with the idea of being King." Alistair replied, popping free the last of his chest piece and strapping it to the stand. "I never wanted it, and I told you that… yet, here we are. Not much to be done now."

"I suppose you're right." Elissa said, laughing lightly and watching him sit on the bed at her side having finally gotten all of his plate off. "That's not what I'm most curious about though, to be honest… it's more the engagement…" She fiddled with the band then, shifting it around her finger. "I **like** the idea… but are **you** sure?"

"You don't think I should be?" Alistair asked, reaching over to take her hand in his own – enjoying the look of his ring there and the idea that one day soon, she would be his bride for all the world to see.

"They're going to expect an heir, Alistair." Elissa said, and suddenly it all became clear to Alistair as his eyes caught her own. "With the taint in our blood… having a child is nearly unheard of for a single Grey Warden… with two of us… it may be impossible… Avernus certainly seems to think that is the case."

"Well it certainly won't be from lack of trying." Alistair chuckled, leaning forward to claim her mouth and pressing her back into the softness of their bed.

"That is an excellent point." Elissa chuckled, allowing his hands to slide beneath her shirt and grip the flesh beneath it and feeling the steady familiar flood of desire pool between her thighs. "Good thing we got started when we did, hm?"

They knew this moment was fleeting, that this happiness would not last forever – it would likely not even last through sunrise as there were rising tensions building between them that neither could ignore – and so they gave themselves over to the joy of each and every second of it. Tonight he was King of Ferelden, and she was his Queen – and between them were no secrets, no old wounds, no approaching storms. Tonight they were simply groom and bride to be.


	48. Chapter 48: The Proposition and The Mist

_**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N: WARNING! NSFW** material contained within, relatively near the end of the chapter. You have been warned!_

_Muse music: Breath Me by Sia, specifically during the segment between Elissa and Riordan._

_Thank you to my readers, followers and reviewers! And to my wonderful Lady Beta, **artemiskat**._

_Here's hoping you enjoy all the work put into this chapter. :)_

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Forty-Eight: The Proposition and the Mistake<strong>_

Much to Alistair's relief, Riordan departed Denerim shortly after his proposal to Elissa at the Landsmeet – leaving word with Eamon of his plans to travel south in search of any signs of what was to come, though he spoke with neither of his fellow Wardens before he disappeared. Elissa tried to appear as though this didn't bother her, but Alistair could tell that she was upset that the man had taken his leave with out so much as a word to her - and Alistair tried to appear as though it didn't bother _him_ that she was bothered. They were both getting to be very good at pretending.

On Eamon's advice, Elissa and her company made the journey to Soldier's Peak to collect their forces and make final preparations for the impending battle against the Archdemon. When they arrived, the group was stunned to see all of the changes that had been made since last they visited. The werewolves milled about happily, seeming to have adopted the former Warden fortress as their new home.

"Bodahn, what is all of this?" Elissa asked, eyes gone wide as she stopped by his cart to offer a scratch and some treats to her hound.

"Ah, noticing all of the improvements we've made since your last visit, no doubt," the dwarf smiled, sharing a cryptic nod with his son. "Yes, everyone contributed – though it was your werewolf who came up with the idea in the beginning and organized most of the work."

"My werewolf?" Elissa asked, mind gone blank for a moment as she watched the emissaries from the Circle of Magi and Templars working _together_ to create a self-contained outdoor garden that seemed to thrive even in the bitter winter climate of the Peak.

"Fellow by the name of Swiftrunner…" Bodahn continued, watching Elissa's eyes swing over to him and her face flush as the name brought memories of their last encounter to the surface. "Seems an agreeable enough sort, once you get past the whole formerly of the lycan persuasion thing."

"Yes, he is… quite _agreeable_. Do you know where he is?" Elissa asked, suddenly anxious to speak with the man and discover what it was that had spurred him to do all of this.

"Can't say that I do, his group tends to roam the grounds quite a bit," the dwarf replied, going back to his work. "I suspect he will find you when he returns. He seemed anxious to see you once we got word that you would be traveling to collect us."

"I see… thank you." Elissa answered, offering a confused half-smile as she made her way into the fortress.

The rooms inside were just as full of activity as the outer grounds, the entire place having taken on the feel of a proper working home instead of simply the skeleton of a once formidable hub that they had attempted to reclaim. Everything was clean and tidy, art work had been straightened and new tapestries had been hung. Fires were burning in merrily in the hearths and candles lit the torches in the hallways. As she passed the kitchens, she could smell something delectable being prepared.

"Did you _smell_ whatever that is they're cooking in the kitchens?" Alistair asked her as she entered their room, barely able to contain himself. "I don't think I've been so hungry in my life and I don't even know what it is."

"You should go and see before Oghren and Sten get wind of it." Elissa chuckled, watching the fear that he would miss out dawn in his eyes in a way that was almost comical.

"Blast, you don't think they could eat it all before I get there, do you?" he said, pulling off the last of his armor and tossing it hastily to the bed in his rush.

"I doubt even those two are capable of such a feat," she smiled, watching him move past her to the door.

"You're sure you don't want to come?" Alistair asked, turning back to smile at her before he went on his way - the jolly atmosphere of the Peak allowing some of the tension that had built between them since his spur of the moment proposal to ebb away.

"No, no… you go ahead. I need to get settled in and speak with those who will be traveling with us come tomorrow morning. I'll come and find you later." Elissa assured him, beginning to remove her own armor until she felt him move in behind her – wrapping his arms around her waist and laying a kiss at the base of her neck.

"Have I told you recently how much I adore you?" he said, feeling the deep breath she took in before leaning against the warm cradle of his body.

"Not specifically, but I got that impression when you proposed," she laughed, patting his hand and turning her face to kiss his cheek before going back to her buckles. "Now shoo! I don't want to hear about it when you get there and find nothing left to feast on save the bits left behind in Oghren's beard."

She listened to the click of his heels as he moved out the door and down the hall, getting softer and softer the farther away he drifted from her. Once she'd removed and secured all of her armor to her stand, she gathered the last of Alistair's discarded pieces and put them away as well, reaching up to let down her hair once she was done and drawing her fingers through the braids to release them before she moved into the space that had once been her room.

She ran her fingers across the spines of the many books that lined the walls, smiling softly and wondering if she'd ever have the time to read them. As the days passed by, she found herself left with the sensation of an hourglass, turned and left waiting as the last sands ran down to mark the end of her allotted time.

She'd stored Sophia Dryden's suit of armor here, as well as the set that had once been Cailan's, telling Alistair at the time she was holding on to them for the day when one or both of them needed to appear more impressive. She sighed, reaching over to finger the lion on Cailan's golden breast plate, polished to a shine once again by her own hands – and realizing that the day had finally come.

"It seems an affront to the Maker himself for a woman so beautiful to always look so sad," a deep voice rumbled from the doorway behind her, and Elissa spun to find Swiftrunner leaning there, the smile on his lips traveling into his golden eyes.

"If I didn't know better, I'd be certain that you and Zevran traded pick up lines." Elissa chuckled, crossing her arms and affecting her best disciplinary frown as the man drifted closer.

"Zevran, that is your assassin, correct?" Swiftrunner asked, raising a critical eyebrow.

"He is _an_ assassin, yes, though I suspect he belongs to no one now that I've freed him from the Crows – least of all me, at any rate." Elissa replied, turning back to her inspection of the suits of armor and wondering if Bodahn would be willing to carry them in his cart.

"And I suspect that if you were to ask him, he would disagree." Swiftrunner chuckled, moving closer to her side. "May I ask what it is that weighs so heavily on your mind? Surely these suits of metal are not that perplexing."

"No, it's not the armor… it's just…" Elissa sighed, rubbing at her eyes and fighting against the wave of exhaustion that suddenly settled into her bones as she walked over to the window and practically fell into the seat there.

"Come now, it can't be _that_ bad," the former werewolf assured her, reaching over to take her hand. She felt his thumb rubbing there for a moment before it stilled. "This is new…"

"What do you…" Elissa started, opening her eyes and realizing that he was looking at the Theirin signet on her finger. "Ah… yes… _that_… I…"

"You owe me no explanations, dear Lady." Swiftrunner chuckled, drawing her hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to it before letting it go. "He is a lucky man, and I hope he knows it." He stood afterward, pacing to one of the fully stocked bookshelves in the room and looking at the spines there much the same as she had done moments before.

"Bodahn said that you organized all of the efforts made to reclaim the fortress properly." Elissa said, watching his eyes flicker back over to hers, a momentary flare of something there and then gone.

"I did…" he said, turning back to the shelf once again.

"Why? I sent you here to be safe, not to be my servants." Elissa asked, listening to the rumble of laughter that flowed through him as he turned to walk back over to her.

"The dwarf warned me you would think that when you saw all that we had done." Swiftrunner smiled, sitting down opposite her again. "But honestly my Lady, I did not mean it as such nor do we think of ourselves as servants. You will have to forgive me for the possible intrusion into your privacy, but when we arrived here I found myself strolling the grounds and speaking with the variety of people you have gathered here. I found myself unwilling to put aside my desire to know more about you, and - as you were unavailable to me, I spoke to those who were. The longer I talked to them, the more it became apparent just how much you have done not just for my people – but for _all_ of Ferelden, and how little you have asked in return. In light of that, cleaning up a few cobwebs and planting a garden hardly seems enough."

"I cannot believe that you have gotten sucked into that whole _Elissa, Grey Warden, Savior of Ferelden_ nonsense." Elissa snorted, staring out the window and shaking her head.

"And I, my Lady, can't believe that **you** have not." Swiftrunner replied, watching her turn back to him as he rose and moved back to the door. "I will take my leave now. I must prepare my people if we are to leave with you in the morning. Sleep well, Warden. Tomorrow – we march to war."

* * *

><p>The journey to Redcliffe, much like the journey to Soldier's Peak – seemed almost carefree in comparison to their travels prior to the Landsmeet. Certainly the pockets of darkspawn were increasing both in number and ferocity, but they no longer had to worry that men belonging to Loghain or Howe would pounce upon them when they least expected. This realization had the entire company, those formerly werewolves included, traveling with quite a bit more joy than they had allowed themselves in what amounted to almost a year of nearly constant motion.<p>

Nights at camp were filled with music and laughter, tales and contests, festivities and friendship. Elissa allowed herself to revel in these moments, and in these people – each amazing in their own right, and each infinitely precious to her as her long journey neared its conclusion. In these moments, she was truly happy for the first time in many long years – and she felt, for just a second, as she looked out across the flickering firelight onto Alistair's handsome face – that maybe they could beat the odds, maybe they _could_ hold on to what they had and simply be happy.

That thought flew out of her mind as soon as they reached the upper reaches of Redcliffe Village, watching the smoke and flames devouring the structures below as a frantic young man ran screaming in their direction.

"Y-your Majesty, it's you! A-and the Warden!" the man said, struggling to catch his breath. "Andraste's mercy that you got here when you did! I thought for sure those monsters were going to get me."

"What's happened?" Alistair asked, trying to calm the haggard man. "Where is everyone?"

"Most fled to the castle this morning before the darkspawn arrived," the man explained, casting fearful glances over his shoulder.

"Darkspawn _here_, already?" Elissa gasped, unable to fully absorb the destruction before her – as though it wasn't really happening. "But… they weren't supposed to be here yet, they weren't supposed…"

"Do you know if there are more at the castle?" Alistair asked, trying to maintain some sort of order as it seemed that Elissa was lost for the moment – continuing to mumble about it being too soon as she stared out over the ravaged remains of Redcliffe Village.

"By now, yes – they'd have easily reached the castle walls," the man exclaimed, swallowing fearfully.

"Right, okay then…" Alistair said, taking in a deep breath and looking to Elissa – waiting for her to issue commands the way she usually did – but nothing useful came out of her. "T-then I suppose we should head to the Castle, attempt to defend as best we can and work our way inside. I can sense a great number of darkspawn here – but there is no sign of the Archdemon. Perhaps we will be lucky enough to avoid that today."

"What about the village?" Elissa asked, eyes wild as she turned to him – shining with unshed tears and guilt.

"It's lost, Elissa… look at it." Alistair insisted, watching her turn back to look again. "No one survived that. I'm sorry, but we need to press toward the castle. Our main forces are already gathered there."

"You're right…" Elissa sniffed, wiping away the lone tear that ran down her cheek and resigning herself to their task once again – though Alistair could see that she was shaken, feeling responsible for the losses they suffered here while she leisurely led them back from the Peak. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>The waves of darkspawn increased in size and strength the closer they made it to the castle walls, and once they breached the main gate – Elissa and her companions could see the full force of what they were facing. An endless stream of drones dropped from walls, popped forth from holes in the ground, and swarmed in from behind them – lobbing wave after wave of attacks against the battered group that fought outside the castle walls.<p>

They pressed forward, finally making their way up the castle stairs and making their stand outside the doors – attempting to prevent anything from making it into the castle. The doors had taken endless waves of abuse already, and were reaching their breaking point.

"Something is leading these drones, Alistair." Elissa cried out, fighting her way to his side through the onslaught. "I don't sense the Archdemon, but _something_ is out there – something very old and powerful. We need to find it and take it out, or I fear these waves will never stop, and neither the doors nor these men will hold out much longer under such pressure."

"No need." Alistair yelled, tipping his head forward and watching her eyes swing to follow his through the gate. They listened to the roar of the Alpha Ogre that stood there – tossing the bodies of anything that stood in its way aside like dolls. "**It** found us."

"Go, **now**!" Elissa cried out, catching both Sten and Oghren's eye where they stood at the base of the steps and waving them forward with a gesture, watching them wade through the drones and make their way to the ogre. Shale trailed along behind them keeping any of the drones at bay as she smashed left and right with her great stone fists.

From her perch, Elissa could see the whole of the courtyard and all those fighting within it. She cringed at the sight of Swiftrunner's people, some of whom were having a rough time adjusting to their newly human bodies and the substantially _less_ than superhuman fighting styles they'd been forced to adopt with the loss of their former bodies. Swiftrunner himself was a force of nature, equally as skilled as a fighter in his human form as he had been as a werewolf and she found herself wondering what he had been in his past life, if he even remembered.

Once the ogre had fallen, his body thudding against the ground with a great rumble as Oghren scurried away to avoid being crushed, the rest of the spawn seemed to dissipate – having no one left to lead them. Elissa and Alistair finished off the last couple of drones, hearing the doors to the castle being pried open behind them.

"My Lady! You're here! Thank goodness!" Ser Perth exclaimed, coming forward to take and kiss Elissa's hand – then releasing it with a sheepish look when Alistair cleared his throat beside her.

"It's good to see you safe and sound, Ser Perth." Elissa replied, wiping some of the blood away from her face with a tight smile. "Can you tell me what's happened here?"

"I'm afraid I don't rightly know. Riordan of the Grey Wardens arrived this morning just ahead of the darkspawn." Perth explained, watching Elissa's eyes go wide in surprise that the senior Warden was here instead of scouting to the south as he should have been. "He said he has urgent news, and requested that we send out patrols to watch for your arrival – but we were attacked before it could be done."

"Did he say what this news was?" Elissa asked, trying not to feel anxious under Alistair's eyes which had fallen heavily on her back as soon as Riordan's name had been mentioned.

"No, I suspect he was waiting for you, a-and the King." Perth continued, looking to Alistair then back to her – reading the tension in the air. "He only said he had been somewhere in the south before he arrived… there wasn't time for more, things happened so fast. I should take you to the hall… they'll be waiting for you there."

Elissa nodded, following anxiously behind him and leaving Alistair to collect the rest of their companions and come in on his own.

* * *

><p>The halls of Redcliffe Castle were crowded with the various troops Elissa had collected, virtually every bit of floor space taken up by soldiers of one sort or another. Inside the great hall, Eamon had assembled the commanding officers from each branch when he received word of Alistair and Elissa's arrival. Once she entered the hall with Swiftrunner and her companions, everyone who needed to hear Riordan's tale had arrived. The senior Warden took several steps forward when his eyes found Elissa's within the motley crowd, moving to the head of the group gathered on the dais and coming to stand just a few inches away from her.<p>

"Lissa, it is a relief to see you unharmed." Riordan said, looking as though he wanted to reach out and touch her, but fighting against the impulse when he saw Alistair's eyes harden with the use of her nickname. "And you as well, Alistair… or should I say, Your Majesty."

"No, I _wouldn't_ say that." Alistair snipped, eyes cold. "Not yet anyway."

"As you wish." Riordan replied, clearing his throat and backing away slightly – refocusing himself on his explanations.

"What's going on, Riordan?" Elissa asked, trying to calm her nerves and simply deal with the harsh realities of war. A room full of people were looking to her as some sort of leader, and she'd be damned if her inappropriate feelings for a man were going to throw her off of it. "The village and courtyard were swarmed with darkspawn, but most of them were drones. We only found one Alpha. That seems odd for a horde."

"I should have known you'd pick up on that." Riordan smiled, holding her eyes again for a moment with something akin to pride, then looking away. "It was assumed that the horde was marching in this direction, but I have discovered that is not true."

"Then where…" Elissa began, catching Alistair's eyes for a moment and shifting uncomfortably when she saw a bit more irritation in them than she was used to.

"Riordan tells us the bulk of the horde is, in fact, heading to Denerim." Eamon interrupted, sensing the mounting tension between his nephew and the future Queen and attempting to diffuse it before they erupted in some sort of ill timed lovers quarrel here in the midst of his War Council. "They are perhaps two days from the capital."

"**What!**" Alistair and Elissa shouted together, their issues momentarily forgotten.

"Are we sure about that?" Alistair asked, passing a suspicious eye over to Riordan. "I mean… if that's true…"

"I ventured close enough to _listen in_, as it were." Riordan replied, frustrated that Alistair was requiring him to defend himself simply because he was jealous. "I assure you, I am quite certain."

"Has word been sent to Denerim?" Elissa gasped, turning fearful eyes to Eamon and hoping that her delay hadn't doomed two cities.

"Word has been sent; that messenger managed to escape just after Riordan's arrival." Eamon assured her. "But Denerim will need more than warning, they will need our troops."

"There is more." Riordan said, swinging the focus of the room back in his direction as he moved within range of Elissa and Alistair once again. "The Archdemon has shown itself. The dragon leads the horde."

"Maker preserve us!" Leliana gasped from behind them, and even Elissa felt her nerves shaken by that news - though she had always known what they would face in the end.

"We can't reach Denerim in two days… it's too far." Elissa said, her voice threatening to break as she realized just how much her trip to Soldier's Peak was likely to cost them.

"No, we cannot." Eamon replied, and Elissa was appropriately cowed by his reproachful glare. "We must begin a forced march to the capital at first light and get there as soon as we can. Denerim has to be protected at all costs."

"The city is likely to fall, Eamon, killing ourselves to reach it will not change that." Alistair interjected, seeing Elissa beginning to falter and wanting to help, despite his frustrations. "The Archdemon is our focus, and we will reach him as quickly as we can – but I will not sacrifice the forces that we have to injury and exhaustion brought on by improper travel."

"Alistair is right." Riordan added, sharing a terse nod with the future king. "The Archdemon is our focus, and only Grey Wardens can defeat it – so where it is, we must go – as quickly but also as safely as possible. With so few of us left, we cannot afford to sacrifice anyone in travel to the city."

"Then we march, and hope that the forces we have collected here will give us the advantage that we need." Alistair sighed, turning to face the collected leaders of the room. "Gather your people and have them ready to leave for Denerim at daybreak. I will not leave those people to die without at least attempting to give them a fighting chance."

"I'm sorry I…" Elissa stuttered, her voice shaking – the very sound of which silenced the room and turned everyone back to her… so rarely was she seen to be so shaken. "This is surely a foolish question, but I-I… how do we even _defeat_ an Archdemon? We don't… I-I don't…"

"Then… you don't know…" Riordan answered, his face losing all traces of confidence as he realized delivering this news had become his burden to bear. "Of course not. You are both new recruits. Duncan would never have expected you to…"

"Duncan wouldn't have expected us to, what?" Alistair asked, reaching over to place a hand at Elissa's back and feeling her trembling beneath his palm.

"Bring Elissa and meet me in my quarters before you retire for the evening." Riordan said, nodding to them and moving to the door. "There are… _things_ that we must speak of that I cannot discuss in the company of those outside of our order."

Alistair simply nodded in response, watching the senior Warden disappear out the door.

"Go get settled." Alistair said, pulling Elissa forward and kissing her forehead. "I'll speak to everyone and make sure they're prepared, then we will go to see him together." She said nothing, moving slowly out the door and shuffling off to their room.

* * *

><p>It took longer than Alistair would have liked to see to all of their forces and companions, and by the time he reached the room he shared with his bride to be – he was already exhausted. Still, he hurried to remove his armor and shuffle himself and an increasingly lethargic Elissa off to Riordan's room, wanting to get whatever it was over with so he could put them both to bed for the evening. He suspected they were going to need every second of sleep they could get as this was likely to be the last night of proper rest they would have until after the battle of Denerim.<p>

"Please know, I assumed you had already been told." Riordan assured them, leading them over to a small couch near the fire and taking a seat in the chair across from it before continuing. "I would have told you when you freed me in Denerim had I thought otherwise."

"What is it?" Alistair hissed, rubbing at his brow and wishing the man would simply spit it out already. "What are you even apologizing for?"

"Tell me… have you ever wondered **why** the Grey Wardens are needed to defeat the darkspawn?" Riordan asked, holding Alistair's eyes briefly when Elissa continued to stare into the flames and avoid them both.

"I… not really actually…" Alistair replied, suddenly understanding just how foolish that was. "I assumed it had something to do with the taint in our blood."

"That is it exactly." Riordan nodded. "The Archdemon can be killed, just the same as any other darkspawn – but, should anyone _other_ than a Grey Warden strike the killing blow, it will not be enough. The essence of the Old God would simply pass from one vessel into another to be born again, essentially making it immortal were it not for our order. But our service comes with a heavy cost, I know Duncan told you both at least that much."

"He did, but I suppose I always assumed he meant the possibility of death during the Joining, or any number of times when you battle the things that we do on a regular basis. What happens to the Warden that strikes the killing blow?" Alistair swallowed, bracing himself for what was coming when the look on the senior Warden's face showed it to be a grim revelation. He looked to Elissa for some sort of support, but her face was blank – revealing nothing of what might be going on inside her.

"A darkspawn is an empty soulless vessel, where a Grey Warden is _not_." Riordan continued. "When the essence of the Archdemon is destroyed, so is the Grey Warden. Without the Archdemon, the Blight will end… it is the only way."

"So… the Grey Warden who kills the Archdemon… **dies**?" Alistair asked, his tongue feeling a hundred times too big for his mouth as he spoke those words. Riordan nodded, but said no more.

"I will do it," came Elissa's voice from beside him, cracking slightly and showing just how fragile she had become though she continued to stare resolutely into the flames. "I will make the sacrifice."

"I knew that you would say as much… and though it warms my heart to see such courage and conviction… there is much of me that wants to plead with you not to be in such a rush to sacrifice you life." Riordan said, smiling sadly at Elissa and pulling her eyes to him. "I am the eldest of us, and the taint will not spare me much longer – you have both read as much in my blood." the man leaned forward, tracing the tips of his fingers against Elissa's hand, "You are young, Elissa, and have much to live for. I will strike the final blow. This is my burden to bear."

Alistair wanted to speak up, to interrupt and assert his own will into this conversation, to break the electric flow of energy through the air between them – but he found himself unable to do so.

"If I should fail, the deed **will** fall to you." Riordan continued, and Elissa nodded in response.

"Why _her_?" Alistair asked, drawing the attention back to him. "Everyone seems to forget that I am a Warden to."

"But you are _also_ a King, Alistair – and Ferelden will need you to recover once all of this is done." Riordan explained, and Alistair looked to Elissa as what she had actually done in placing him on the throne finally settled in on him.

She made no efforts to avoid his eyes as he allowed himself to accept the fact that she had effectively removed him from the battle and taken his life off the table. He stood up then, furious and hurt and unable to accept or understand how she could have orchestrated this right under his nose, though she had told him months ago when the attempt had been made on his life outside of Orzammar that she would never stand idly by and watch him place himself in danger if she could prevent it.

"I will see you once the army is ready to march, then." Alistair said, barely managing to contain his raging emotions and wanting nothing more than to be rid of the both of them for the moment. "I guess this all ends soon, with or without me."

The two remaining Wardens watched Alistair go, remaining in front of the fire in silence until Elissa could take no more and wandered off to find a quiet spot to think on her own.

* * *

><p>Alistair was furious, Elissa knew that as she curled up in the corner of the rampart wall and stared up into the night sky. He had every right to be, she had taken his fate out of his hands in much the same way Eamon and Isolde did years ago. She hoped that one day he would understand that she did it not to spite him, but because she loved him and could not stomach the thought that she would lose him in such a brutal fashion. Riordan was right, Ferelden would need their King - but Elissa had chosen to save Alistair for substantially more selfish reasons.<p>

She had spoken at length with Zevran before making her way to the rooftop, working with him to concoct a toxin that would incapacitate Alistair should he do what she expected of him and attempt to throw himself at the Archdemon if Riordan failed in his attempt to down the beast. He might hate her for a while afterwards, but that too would pass – and even if it didn't, she would no longer care as she would be dead.

_Dead_. Elissa suspected that she should be more frightened by the contemplation of her own demise only a handful of days from this very moment – but she felt nothing but relief with the thought of it. She was tired, _so_ very tired and had been for days and weeks on end. Her entire life seemed to have been leading up to this moment – and she surrendered herself unto it willingly, embracing the idea that should the senior Warden fail – and Elissa could not shake the feeling that he would – she would sacrifice herself for the greater good.

From the corner of her eye she sensed motion, and she scrambled to lay her hands on the hilt of the dagger she kept strapped to her thigh at all times – watching as the shape in the shadows expanded from the small bird body into the slender curves of Morrigan.

"Do not be alarmed." Morrigan said, sidling over to sit beside her. "'Tis only I."

"Morrigan? Is everything alright?" Elissa asked, eying the witch with a cautious eye and noting that she seemed to be sad – which was an odd emotion to consider in the witch.

"I am well, my friend, 'tis **you** who are in danger." Morrigan replied, and Elissa turned to narrow her eyes at the woman wondering what she was speaking of. "I know the truth behind your order, of what you must and indeed, if I know you – _and I do_, **intend **to sacrifice in order to end the Blight. But do not worry… I have a plan, you see. A way out. The loop in your hole. What Riordan has told you, need not come to pass."

"What do you mean?" Elissa asked, brow wrinkling as she tried to puzzle out what the witch could possibly have concocted this time.

"I offer a way out, for all of you Wardens – a way that need not involve a sacrifice." Morrigan explained. "There is a ritual I can perform for you, in the dark of night."

"Nothing comes without a price, Morrigan." Elissa said, watching the witch's golden eyes swing back to her green. "Especially not _rituals_ in my experience."

"Perhaps you are right… but that price might not be so unbearable in exchange for your life, or the life of those for whom you hold affection." Morrigan replied, her words chosen carefully to relay to Elissa that she _knew_ of the connection between herself and Riordan as well as her relationship with Alistair. "All I ask is that you listen to what I have to offer, nothing more. If you choose not to accept my help… so be it."

"Very well." Elissa replied, knowing that Morrigan was unlikely to let it go otherwise. "What is this plan?"

"What I propose is this… convince Alistair to lay with me, here, tonight." Morrigan began, narrowing her eyes when Elissa very nearly choked on her own laughter in response to the very idea of that.

"I'm sorry that's… I'm sorry…" Elissa struggled, clearing her throat and going back to neutral. "Continue."

"The ritual will conceive a child within me, and that child will bear the taint that Alistair has given it. When the Archdemon is slain, the essence of the Old God will seek out this child like a beacon… a young life far superior to that of an old one" Elissa swallowed hard, following the path of Morrigan's thoughts and not liking where she was going. "At such an early stage, the child will be able to absorb the essence and not perish – thus the Archdemon will be slain, but no Grey Warden need be sacrificed in the process."

"So the child will become a _darkspawn_?" Elissa said, feeling nauseous at the very idea that Morrigan would want such a thing festering inside her.

"Not at all." Morrigan said happily. "It will become something different. A child born with the soul of an Old God. Pure and untainted… there are concessions I must ask of you, however, if you choose to accept my offer," the witch continued, holding Elissa's eyes. "Once this is done, you and Alistair allow me to walk away and you do not follow. **Ever**. The child will be mine to raise as I wish."

"Why do you need Alistair for this? Why not Riordan?" Elissa wondered aloud, thinking that surely the idea of laying with someone for whom she found so utterly intolerable had to be distasteful even to a woman with the loose morality of Morrigan.

"Even if I thought Riordan could be convinced – and I'm certain he **cannot** as the man seems determined to be your martyr - he is unsuitable." Morrigan snorted, staring up at the sky as Elissa continued to hesitate to give an answer. "I need one who has not been tainted for so long. It _must _be Alistair, and it must be tonight."

"How do you even know that this will work?" Elissa asked, staring up at the stars with her.

"It **will** work, Elissa." Morrigan replied, her voice oddly full of emotion. "I can save your life, if you will allow it."

"Alistair will never agree to it." Elissa responded, and she could feel the witch tense up beside her – knowing refusal was imminent.

"Convince him. If he cares for you as he claims, he will give in when he considers the alternative." Morrigan insisted, offering one final plea. "If you take this blow, and I **know** you – Elissa – I know you intend to… if you take it, then Alistair loses the woman he loves and is left to rule the country, alone. Do you think he wants that? And you… you have **many** reasons to save your own life. This death that you seem determined to hand yourself over to **need not be**. It is not time, Elissa… not for you. Let me do this… **let** me save your life."

"I'm sorry, Morrigan… I can't." Elissa replied, reaching over to take the witch's hand and sighing when she allowed it – even squeezing briefly before she snatched it away and stalked off in anger.

* * *

><p>When Alistair returned to their room, Elissa was not there and so he forced himself to wander the castle in search of her. He did not sense her in Riordan's room, thankfully, and so followed the sensation of her blood through the castle in the direction of the ramparts before being waylaid by an insistent Morrigan who dragged him away to her room to speak privately.<p>

"What is it, Morrigan?" Alistair sighed. "I don't have a whole lot of patience for you at the moment. It's been a **long** night."

"We need to talk." Morrigan said, and Alistair looked up to her with a roll of his eyes.

"Is that not what we're doing?" Alistair snipped, faltering in his bluster when he simply glared back at him – her stare icy even for Morrigan. "Alright… so whatever you've got to say is big then… is it Elissa? Is she alright?"

"For the moment." Morrigan replied cryptically, beginning to pace the room.

"Can you make this sound any _more_ ominous?" Alistair hissed, rushing forward to stop her mid stride by planting his body in front of her path. "Out with it already!"

"Do you love her?" Morrigan asked, her golden eyes locking onto him and reading into his soul.

"With all my heart." Alistair replied without hesitation.

"Then I need for you to do something that you aren't going to like." Morrigan continued, watching him slowly swallow.

"I don't like the sound of that." Alistair replied, shivering at the look in her eyes. "What are we talking about, exactly?"

"It's a ritual." Morrigan continued, eyes continuing their inspection of him.

"Oh? What have you cooked up now then?" Alistair asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow as he waited for her to give up this game and simply reveal whatever it was she wanted of him.

"I need for you to lay with me, Alistair." Morrigan said, reaching over to lay a hand against his chest as though she had some hope of being able to seduce him.

"Cute! This is payback, right? For all the jokes." Alistair laughed, removing her hand in disgust and shifting away from her to lean against the post of her bed and wait for the punch line. "But… you're not kidding, are you? You're actually **serious**!"

"I am deadly serious." Morrigan responded, walking over and sitting on her bed – watching him shift further away from her in response.

"I can't believe that you're actually asking me this." Alistair gasped, totally destroying his hair with his worried hands. "What kind of ritual is this anyway?"

"I won't lie to you, it will produce a child." Morrigan answered, reaching her hand out to steady the man when he very nearly fainted in response.

"**WHAT?**" Alistair gasped, falling to the bed beside her – no longer caring as his hip brushed against this woman who he hated. "I-I have to be hearing things… am I dreaming? You cannot have just asked me to _impregnate_ you in some kind of magic **sex** rite!"

"This is no dream, Alistair." Morrigan responded. "I know what I am asking, and so do you."

"This… _child_… why would you even want such a thing?" Alistair asked, swallowing hard against the waves of nausea rising within him as he thought of any sort of intimacy with this woman. "Do you want an heir to the throne?"

"No! I do not want to claim your throne, silly man." Morrigan snorted, rolling her eyes. "I seek to create a vessel with which to harness the soul of an Old God."

"Oh, well… that's **much** better." Alistair sighed, throwing himself back against the bed and wondering when his life had become so complicated – when the things of nightmare became actual viable options in reality. "Here I was worried about creating another bastard heir. I didn't even consider the idea that it might be some kind of dragon… God… whatever…" He rubbed hard at his face then, taking in a long hard breath. "Look, even if I was willing to entertain this idea… and I'm not saying that I am," he pulled his hands away and looked up to meet Morrigan's eyes. "Are you even sure that it will work?"

"You need to trust me." Morrigan said, realizing how stupid that sounded even as the words left her mouth.

"Trust you?" Alistair yelled, losing himself to laughter once again and listening as Morrigan furiously stood from the bed.

"Fine, fine! If you want the truth – then here it is." Morrigan hissed, and Alistair's laughter abated quickly as he heard the tension in her voice. "I do not make this offer for you, or even for the soul of the Old God – I make it for **her**, for Elissa. I… I do not want her to die."

"She won't." Alistair replied, wishing he believed those words but knowing he did not. "Riordan has agreed to the sacrifice."

"And you think that will stop her?" Morrigan snorted, crossing her arms. "Have you not seen the look in her eyes? She has resigned herself to death, Alistair. She is _letting_ go."

"If it comes to it, I will stop her – throne or no throne." Alistair retorted, shaking his head against what he knew to be true.

"She has planned for that eventuality as well." Morrigan assured him. "I heard her plotting with the assassin to take you out of the battle if necessary. She will coat her blades with a toxin that will render you unconscious should she believe you intend to take the final blow for your own."

"She wouldn't… she…" Alistair said, his words growing weak as he ran out of arguments.

"If you love her as you claim to, if you care for her as I do – then you **must** do this, Alistair – if you don't, you have signed her death warrant with your own hand." Morrigan said, waiting for his reaction.

"I… I." Alistair replied, swallowing and pressing his eyes closed as he felt Morrigan sit again beside him - unable to stomach either the idea of touching the witch, or of losing Elissa - but ultimately realizing what he had to do. "I agree."

"Take this." Morrigan said, pressing a vial into his hand and watching him open his eyes again to glance at it – running his thumb over the cool glass. "It will… _aid_ the process so that it might be less… _unpleasant_ for you…"

"Let's just get this over with…" Alistair replied, his voice sounding foreign even to his own ears as he tossed back the concoction she had given him and allowed the witch to press him back against her mattress, her fingers working with the laces of his clothing.

* * *

><p>When Elissa finally made it back to her room, she was completely drained. After her upsetting discussion with Morrigan, she had run into Eamon and been forced to listen to a lengthy diatribe about the many reasons it was foolish for both the future King <strong>and<strong> the future Queen to go into battle. The gossamer thin thread of her patience had finally snapped, and she'd left the man in the stunned silence of his study after practically biting loose his head in a venomous outburst where she swore to him that she had already put plans into motion to keep Alistair from taking unnecessary risks in the heat of battle.

She was almost relieved that she had somehow managed to beat Alistair back, taking in and then releasing a long breath of air that she was given this time to prepare for the fight she knew would come when at last he arrived. She took a long bath and dressed in the dark blue tunic she used for sleeping – brushing out her hair before lying back on their bed to wait. The minutes turned into half an hour, and then an hour – and Elissa began to wonder if Alistair planned to return to her at all – or if she'd walk to her death with so many things left unsaid between them.

_It is what you deserve_, the voice inside her head whispered, and she toyed with the golden band on her finger in her guilt. _You manipulated him and you lied. You intend to poison him tomorrow just to keep him from interfering. What did you expect, silly girl? That he would thank you for your troubles?_

She rubbed at her face wearily, knowing she could track him through the call of his blood if she so desired… but knowing she would not. The last thing either of them needed was to be forced into one another's company on the eve of this final battle. And so, lying there, distraught and dejected – Elissa Cousland realized that after all was said and done, she would face this long last night on her own. She had never felt so completely and utterly alone, her fingers drifting of their own accord to the cord around her neck and the silver ring strung upon it. She pulled it out from beneath the fabric of her shirt, running her thumb across the heraldry of the Howe family and noting how much it differed from the golden Theirin ring she now wore on her hand.

Elissa knew she shouldn't want it, and even if she did – she should not act on that desire, but the longer she sat there, the more obvious it became that wherever Alistair had gone - he did _not_ intend to return to the bed that they shared – the more impossible it was to resist the urge to travel the few feet down the hall to Riordan's room and hand herself over to whatever had been building between them.

One hour turned into two, and the castle drifted into silence – and in that moment, she could fight no more. She stood from the bed, striding over to her door and pulling it open – poking her head out to peer down the hall and verify that not even a guard lingered within eye-shot. Pulling her own door closed behind her, Elissa slipped through the shadows of the short hallway – coming to a stop outside of the senior Warden's closed door.

She heard him moving inside, and didn't have to pay attention to the sounds to know when he came to stand on the other side of the thick planks of wood between them. She could sense him there, closing her eyes and allowing herself to enjoy the pull of it – reaching a hand forward to lay against the grain. Her skin never brushed the coarse wood and her eyes snapped open when she heard him pull the door. He said nothing, simply moved to the side and allowed her to enter before closing and latching the door behind them.

It was obvious this was no innocent social call. Elissa stood there bare legged in only her tunic, long red hair cascading around her shoulders – staring over at Riordan who had obviously been in bed, his dark hair free of its customary braids and lightly tousled from sleep. He was shirtless and wore only soft linen pants, and he watched her carefully with his icy blue eyes.

She made the first move, walking forward and reaching out tentative fingers to trace a scar that marked him from collarbone to abdomen and feeling him shiver at her touch. He reached up then, covering her hand with his own – his eyes dark with the desire that flared within him – and Elissa could contain herself no longer – rushing forward and reaching up to grab the back of his head and bring his mouth hard against her own.

His hands were everywhere as they devoured each other, the hum of the taint pulsing higher and higher with their increased heart rates. He slipped his tongue into her mouth as he slid the tunic from her shoulders letting it drop to the ground beneath her – his rough hand covering the soft flesh of her breast as he grazed across her nipple with a thumb drawing a low moan from between her parted lips.

Riordan led her back to the couch in front of the fire then, kissing her again and again as he settled her back against it, moving his lips from her mouth and trailing them down her body as he slid her small clothes down her legs. She closed her eyes and waited for him to come back to her, but felt him press at her knees a moment later – causing them to flutter back open and find him still kneeling in front of her.

Elissa reluctantly allowed him to part her knees, watching as he slid an arm underneath her backside and slid her closer to the edge of the couch – leaving her fully exposed before him. She tensed hesitantly as he lowered his mouth to her sex, watching his tongue dip forward and tease against her damp folds before finally dipping inside to find the spot that made her come undone. Her head dropped back against the couch, hands scrambling for purchase against the arm and soft cushion beside her as the man went to work – bringing sensations into her body she had never known existed. She could feel herself rapidly approaching release, and when he slid two fingers inside her it threw her right over the edge – a string of some of the most inappropriate things she had ever said spewing forth from her mouth as she arched like a bow with the peak of her orgasm.

Before she could think to recover, he was lifting her up and walking them over to the bed – laying her down and dropping his pants, taking her mouth once again as he sheathed himself inside her. She dug her nails into his back as he picked up the pace within her, pushed and pulled with the swelling tide of his own climax and feeling her coming within reach of another one of her own. He wound his fingers into her own, pressing their hands back against the headboard and moving against her harder and faster – their breathing frantic as he pressed his mouth against hers again, moaning against her soft lips when he finally found his release – then reaching down to bring her to her own with a few flicks of his expert fingers.

They stay joined for a few moments after, Riordan laying kiss after kiss against her mouth, her neck, her breasts. As their breathing began to slow, he finally pulled out and rolled to the side – flipping his blanket across them in the cooling air.

"Did I do alright?" Riordan asked, his words the first sound uttered since she'd entered other than the murmured nonsense and moaning of lovemaking.

"I-I'm sorry… I…" Elissa stuttered, taken slightly aback – she'd never been asked for a performance evaluation before and wasn't quite sure how to respond. "It was good, **very** good actually… c-could you not tell?"

"Thanks for the compliment." Riordan chuckled, his low laughter shaking his body where it lay against her shoulder. "But I wasn't asking for one… I _meant_, did I do alright standing in for whomever it was you intended me to be?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Elissa assured him, swallowing hard and trying not to meet his very observant eyes.

"Come now, Lissa…" Riordan said, rolling over and laying against her stomach – reaching up to take her hand and kissing it. "I am not insulted – I am thrilled to have spent my last restful night on this earth in the company of a beautiful woman – but we both know it was not me you wanted to lie with tonight, nor – I assume – was it your King," he continued, running his thumb over the gold ring that now burned guiltily against her skin. "That leaves me to believe it is the man to whom _this_ belongs." He reached up to take Nathaniel's ring in his fingers, and caught her eyes across it.

She saw him recognize the heraldry, his eyes flickering up to hers with the shock of recognition.

"I was in love with the son of a monster." Elissa explained, reaching down to take the ring from his hand. "You… resemble him, quite a bit – or, what I imagine he might look like now… it has been many years since I last saw him. Except for your eyes… your eyes are different."

"That would explain it then." Riordan smiled, leaning his face forward onto his palm and running his other hand over her ribcage.

"What?" Elissa asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Your reaction in the dungeon when you found me, and the way that you never seemed to meet my eyes while we were…" Riordan replied, trailing off when Elissa shifted uncomfortably as his fingers grazed the bare skin at the edge of her breast.

"I-I… I should go." Elissa said, gently shifting out from under him and collecting her tunic and small clothes from his floor – tugging them back on with as much decorum as possible now that their moment had passed.

"You _can_ stay, if you like." Riordan said, and she could hear the offer beneath those words in the smile of his voice. "I would not be opposed to sharing my bed with a woman for the evening."

"Thank you, but…" Elissa began, raising her eyes up to his hesitantly.

"But you won't." Riordan finished, laughing softly – then pulling himself up and going to retrieve and put back on his pants so he could see her out. "It's alright, I understand."

She waited for him by the door, and he leaned over and unlocked it – allowing himself to enjoy the smell of her one last time before she brushed by him – turning back for a moment and kissing him one last time.

"Thank you." Elissa said, smiling softly at him as she reached up to touch his face.

He nodded, winking at her and closing the door when she moved off down the hall.

* * *

><p>When Morrigan had finished with him, Alistair hurried back to his room – praying to the Maker that Elissa wouldn't be there and thanking the man when opening their door showed she was not. He bathed quickly, scrubbing his skin almost red as though he could get what he had done – and the touch of Morrigan's hands – off with the layers of skin.<p>

_It was the right thing to do_, he told himself, dressing and stoking the fire up so that the room would be warm when Elissa returned. _She has given so much, sacrificed so much, suffered so much – the least you can give her is her life. She never has to know how you paid for it._

He lay down eventually, waiting for her to return – unable to give himself over to sleep until he knew she was safe for the night, and that things were manageable between them. When the time kept ticking past, he pulled himself out from beneath the warm blankets and began to pace restlessly. He could sense her nearby, but she had not returned… and as there were only a few rooms on their hall that left only a handful to which she would have gone.

He stepped out into the hallway, intending to reach out and try to trace her blood before heading out to speak with her – but shifted back into their room when he heard Riordan's door pulled ajar. In the dim torchlight of the hall, he watched Elissa emerge from the doorway – hair mussed, sleep shirt left open far more than was proper. She said something to the man, stretching up on her toes and kissing his mouth as she pressed a palm against his bare chest.

The fury welled up inside Alistair as he ducked back into their door, pressing it closed behind him – then rushing over to the bed and crawling beneath the blankets, pretending to be asleep as Elissa entered. He struggled to keep his breathing even as she climbed into the bed beside him, struggled not to lash out when she wrapped her traitorous arms around him and nuzzled her face into his back, placing a warm kiss against his skin.

He tried to stay angry as he rolled over, feeling her crawl into his arms and begin to sob softly against the bare skin of his chest. He could still smell Riordan on her skin, in her hair. But the harder she sobbed, the harder it became to hold onto his ire – and he felt it ebbing away – realizing, that had he not bathed, she would have been able to smell Morrigan on him in much the same way.

"Let it out." Alistair whispered, pressing his lips into her hair and rubbing her back. "It will all be okay."

He meant those words as he'd said them. They had both made mistakes this night, but they would move past them and be stronger for it. Perhaps, one day, years into their happy marriage he would sit on his throne beside her and they would laugh to remember how young and foolish they had once been.

Alistair allowed himself to be comforted by the thought of that distant future as he rocked Elissa to sleep in his arms.


	49. Chapter 49: In the City of Ash

_**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N: **Got some really neat reviews after the last chapter, thank you all for the encouragement and critiques :) They are always appreciated!_

_Muse music: Let It Burn by Red and Save the World by Swedish House Mafia._

_Thank you guys - all the readers, reviewers, and followers. This has been a blast to write and I'm almost sad to see it ending! Thanks also to my wonderful Lady Beta, **artemiskat**. _

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Forty-Nine: In the City of Ash<strong>_

From where he stood on the hastily erected platform outside Denerim, Alistair could see the absolutely impossible odds stacked up against them. The entire city burned, everywhere he looked lay only destruction, and he could hear the guttural cries of the darkspawn echoing in the distance as the Archdemon circled overhead.

He glanced back to Elissa once more, fully encased in Sophia Dryden's armor – helm and all. It was important that he be the focus today, she had said, buckling him into his dead brother's armor and moving them out into the milling group of their soldiers and friends.

They had not spoken of either their indiscretions or their affections, and so Alistair was left feeling almost incomplete as he prepared to give some sort of inspirational speech to their collected forces. This was Elissa's forte, and he felt like a bumbling idiot stand there in front of the crowd expected to say something profound and awe inspiring - but she had resolutely refused to have any part of it - fading into the background and forcing him to take the helm.

"Before us stands the might of the darkspawn horde!" Alistair cried out, bounding up onto the edge of the makeshift stage and attempting to look as kingly as possible. "But I tell you now, you should not falter for success lies within our grasp!"

The crowd roared, and from the corner of his eye he could see Elissa clapping – something he was certain to end with the next words from his mouth.

"This woman beside me, is a native of Ferelden." Alistair continued, pointing over to Elissa and watching her hands stutter to a stop in reaction. "Once a noble, then a pauper, now risen to the ranks of Warden-Commander and soon to be your Queen." Elissa's eyes widened then narrowed, this part of his speech had _not_ been in her plan and she was flustered by the attention – cheers and catcalls rising up from the crowd. "She is proof that glory is within us all! She has survived, despite the odds, and without her, none of us would be here to fight today!" Elissa tried to stay mad, but she could see that Alistair actually believed the words he said – and so instead she staggered, realizing just how badly she was going to hurt this man come day's end. "For Ferelden! For the Grey Wardens!"

Alistair raised his sword up defiantly, listening to the roar of the crowd as he reached out for Elissa's hand – turning back when she seemed reluctant to take it. She eyed him cautiously, finally submitting and walking forward to join him at the head of the crowd offering a brief wave and the most genuine smile she could manage.

* * *

><p>At the rear of the assembled masses stood Nathaniel Howe, wrapped once again in the blissfully nondescript armor he had favored since leaving for the Free Marches so long ago and surrounded by the small battalion of men who had survived the initial siege upon the city. He watched from his perch as the newly chosen King paced back and forth across the stage – perfect and golden just as his now deceased half-brother had been.<p>

When the man reached out his hand for the woman lingering in the background, tugging her reluctantly into the spotlight where she stood as Warden-Commander and Queen – Nathaniel was reminded of that moment he had witnessed on the wall outside Lothering. The King still looked at her with adoration, but now it was shadowed – as though something lay hidden beneath his eyes, something that ate at his heart. It made Nathaniel wonder if despite the pretty words the King had spoken and the obvious approval of the crowd, his father may have been right about the woman – of what she was capable, of what she _really_ was.

He'd come here hoping to lay eyes on her, but – as usual – she had hidden her face within the shadows of a helm. Such actions were rarely innocent, Nathaniel knew this much from personal experience. He'd become quite good at not being recognized over the past year, and intimately familiar with the reasons behind it. While there was always the possibility she had become hideously scarred somewhere along the path between Lothering and today, the tales of her mythical beauty seemed to suggest otherwise – which left Nathaniel believing that she disguised who she was for more duplicitous reasons.

This knowledge allowed him to take comfort in what he would ultimately have to do, if he managed to survive the siege of the city… if any of them did. He moved into Denerim's outer gates at the back of the crowd, almost hoping that he would not survive the day, but knowing with a certainty that came only with extended experience, that he was not that lucky.

* * *

><p>The outer city was chaos, buildings and walls collapsing in flame and cinder – regular citizens running in fear trailing screams in their wake – and darkspawn, darkspawn everywhere. It took nearly half an hour to take control of the situation, blazing a path forward toward the gates that would lead into the Market area.<p>

Once they'd realized that this situation was much like the one in Redcliffe – drones running rampant at the command of several hidden Alphas – Riordan, Elissa and Alistair had split up – each taking a group of the main company along with them to seek out those darkspawn who were running the show.

She watched Riordan cleave his target in two with his great sword, the motion effortless as he had likely repeated it hundreds of times on his path to this moment. He turned and acknowledged her with a nod before rushing off to take on several small groups of drones. Elissa shrugged off the amplified surge in her blood at the thought of him. They'd avoided one another ever since the night they spent together, but she could feel his eyes on her and could sense the pull of him in her blood. At times it was difficult to ignore.

She focused her energy on anything, everything, _something_ to keep her mind off of the man and the sin they had committed together. She would not go there again, never again. It was a moment of weakness and she knew it. Though she doubted, in light of all the other things she had done in the past year, that lying with Riordan would be the decision that finally damned her soul – the guilt that ate at her every time she thought of him, every time she looked at Alistair – was profound. She was relieved that come day's end she would be free of it, and all else. Death seemed a mercy if for no other reason than she could finally escape from her never silent mind.

She finished off her Alpha, making her way to the Market gate almost exactly when Alistair did and nodding breathlessly in his direction before Riordan began to speak.

"Well, we've managed to fight our way to the Market gates." Riordan huffed, winded by the lengthy battle. "We're doing better than I had hoped."

"That can change quickly, if we lose our focus." Sten grumbled, casting a stern and disapproving eye over the way that Riordan's eyes lingered on Elissa.

"Bloody nug runners!" Oghren hissed, his eyes moving rapidly this way and that. "We're outnumbered three to one!"

"What shall we do now, Riordan?" Wynne asked, her calm visage remaining unchanged even as Alistair glared at her for asking anything of the other man. "I assume you have a plan."

"The army Elissa and Alistair have gathered will not last long under these brutal conditions, so we need to move with speed and precision in order to reach the Archdemon before exhaustion sets in." Riordan explained, eyes flickering over the crowd standing slightly apart from the main company and waiting for their orders to be issued, and then back to Elissa. "I suggest taking Alistair and no more than two others with you into the city. Anyone you don't bring with you will remain here and command a small force of their own to prevent any additional darkspawn from entering the city from this point."

"You aren't coming with me?" Elissa asked, realizing how that sounded too late and rushing to cover her slip. "W-with us?"

"I need to go in separately, from _you_ especially." Riordan explained, trying to ignore the flicker of hurt in Elissa's eyes at that choice of words. "The taint in your blood, and in mine, would be too strong if we are together. The Archdemon would sense us long before we were ready. Alistair's is still mild enough that he should be fine grouped with you." He sighed, looking out across the city, "we're going to need to reach a high point somewhere… I'm thinking the pinnacle of Fort Drakon might work."

"The top of..?" Alistair asked, brow furrowed until it dawned upon him what the man intended to do. "You want to _draw_ the attention of the Archdemon."

"We have little choice, I'm afraid… unless we lure it we will never be able to fight it on our own terms. I will warn you – once we engage the beast – it will call all of its generals to aid it." Riordan insisted, his eyes flicking back to Elissa, knowing she would understand even if Alistair did not.

"I can sense two of them." Elissa said, and he smiled – watching her close her eyes as she reached out to find them. "One here in the Market District, the other… I don't know… it's… I think it's in the Alienage," she said, opening her eyes and turning to Alistair – his eyes wide with wonder at how good she had gotten at tracking them so specifically from a distance. "Alistair, can you...?"

"Yes, it's there." Alistair said, verifying her read.

"If we slay those generals, it will certainly stop the drones in the city from doing as much harm." Leliana insisted, nodding to Elissa who agreed with her assessment.

"Do not waste too much of your time or energy trying to find them." Riordan insisted, his face grim. "You and Alistair **must** make it to the tower, that is all that matters."

"And what, can I ask, will _you_ be doing?" Alistair sneered, folding his arms across his chest and thinking how many orders he seemed to be issuing without taking any task for his own.

"_I_ will be clearing a path to the Archdemon." Riordan replied, his face blank in reaction to Alistair's ire. "With any luck, I will find it before you do and all of this will be over."

"Sten and Zevran, you're with us." Elissa explained, watching the men nod their approval – the choice surprising no one. She turned to Alistair briefly. "Alistair, can you go and issue orders to the different factions. Pair them off and have them come in to hold each district as we clear them on the way to Fort Drakon. Any who survive should collapse there and we will assault the Archdemon together."

Alistair nodded and moved away to do as she had asked, leaving Elissa to finalize their assault with Riordan.

"You'll need to assign someone to command the troops who remain here at the gate." Riordan insisted, passing his eyes across the motley remainder of her friends whom she had not chosen to move with her and watching her do the same.

"Oghren, you've led men into battle before." Elissa said, waving him over. "Would you be comfortable taking the helm here while we move inside?"

"Aye, let's just move on to the main event already." Oghren nodded, pacing over to the side and giving Elissa a moment with Riordan as he prepared to head into the Market gates.

"If this goes according to my plan, I won't be seeing you again." Riordan said, the muscles in his jaw tensing when Elissa met his eyes but seemed unwilling to close the distance between them and offer the goodbye that he sought from her.

"I know." Elissa answered softly.

"Then… this is goodbye." Riordan said, reaching forward and taking her hand – laying a kiss against her knuckles before thumbing the gold band of Alistair's signet. "Nothing you have done will have prepared you for what you face now, Elissa. May the Maker watch over you now where I cannot."

Her fingers slipped out of his hand as he walked away from her, and she brushed her hand against the ridge of Nathaniel's ring beneath her armor. She was lost for a moment in her memories - thinking back on the year she'd spent with these people, on her years in Highever before that. It almost seemed a dream and half of her expected to wake up, feet dangling in the water of her lagoon - stuck in the life of the silly noble girl she'd never been content to be.

"You seem very far away" came Wynne's voice from beside her.

"I was for a moment there" Elissa replied, turning to smile at the elder mage. They'd butted heads many times, but at the end of the day the woman had been an invaluable asset to their company and had saved Elissa's life on a number of occasions.

"Whatever happens now... to either of us, you should know that I am proud, Elissa" Wynne offered, smiling when Elissa snorted at the very idea that someone as critical as her mother could see anything redeemable within her "_infinitely_ proud, to have called you friend."

"I'll try not to let it go to my head" Elissa laughed, reaching over to squeeze the woman's hand "You should go to Avernus, if you... if things go well here," she encouraged, watching the woman's brow furrow in response to the suggestion with a sigh, "yes, I know - _evil blood mage_, but he's also exceptionally intelligent. If anyone can help with your... problem, it's him."

"I will give it some thought" Wynne said, nodding and patting Elissa's hand before moving away to allow the next of her companions access.

Elissa could see that there seemed to be a whirlwind of activity around them, people rotating to say their goodbyes just in case they did not see one another again - which, seemed likely as they looked up upon the burning broken city.

"Oi, Warden" Oghren grumbled, stomping over to stand beside her and looking decidedly more nervous than she had ever seen him "you still got that bottle of Garbolg's Backcountry Reserve? I lost my soddin' flask."

"Here" Elissa laughed, digging it out of her pack and tossing it in his direction, "I doubt I'll be drinking it at this point."

"You'll be drinking it now" the dwarf snorted, uncorking the bottle with his teeth and taking a long pull before handing it back over to her.

"Wow! That's got quite the... _burp_... punch..." Elissa said, shaking her head and handing the bottle back down to him - listening to him snicker, "It has been an honor to fight with you, Oghren."

"Honor?" Oghren snorted, taking another long pull and wiping the drips from his beard, "It's been a long time since anyone has looked at me and seen honor, Warden."

"Then they weren't looking hard enough." Elissa insisted, watching his eyes swing over to hers swimming with something she could not decide _wasn't_ just intoxication.

"You took in a drunken disgrace of an Orzammar warrior, gave me a reason to fight and the will to keep going..." Oghren said, shaking his head, "I owe you a lot, Warden."

"So... we're just going to forget the part where I killed your wife, then?" Elissa said, watching his eyes go wide just before he exploded in laughter while she stifled giggles of her own.

"Fool nutter of a woman got what was coming to her" Oghren muttered, tossing her a salute and tottering over to speak with Sten as he called over the shoulder "I'll lead your men, Warden. Let the stone turn red with the blood of heroes - today I will be the warrior you taught me to be."

When Elissa turned her eyes back to the front, Shale stood there silently - arms crossed, staring at her with her tiny beady golem eyes. Elissa waited patiently for her to say something... but she remained silent.

"Shale?" Elissa asked finally, wondering if something had finally gone wrong inside her and she had lost the power of speech.

"I find myself needing to say something _profound_," Shale began, shuffling slightly - clearly uncomfortable, "I feel as though I should say that I feel _concern_ for something other than myself, perhaps... **maybe**... even for a squishy companion... but, that would be silly, wouldn't it?"

"It is absolutely scandalous to consider the notion!" Elissa hissed, leaning in close to her and patting her arm conspiratorially.

"I know!" Shale responded, snickering her tinkly metallic laughter "do _try_ not to get eaten by that dragon. If the beast were to fly about afterward and poop it out, irony would dictate that the poop would land on me and I... I couldn't take it."

"You have my word," Elissa said, forcing down her laughter when she realized that the golem actually _was_ upset by the idea of her being eaten. That seemed to satisfy her, and she excused herself to speak with Wynne as Leliana approached.

"I-I know you and I have not always agreed..." the bard began tentatively.

"That, my friend, is putting it lightly." Elissa laughed, reaching over to squeeze the woman's shoulders with affection.

"Perhaps you're right." Leliana laughed, reaching out suddenly and folding Elissa in a bear hug that was so tight she could barely breathe, "Be safe, dear friend, may the Maker smile fortune on you."

"Thank... you..." Elissa groaned, unable to do much more within the woman's crushing grip. Leliana seemed to come back to herself suddenly, blushing and muttering some things under her breath in Orlesian before going to speak with Alistair.

Morrigan was walking over now, and the look on her face was decidedly cross. Elissa wasn't sure whether she wanted to hear what the woman had to say considering she was probably still angry for having been turned down in her attempt to spawn a demon child.

"After all of this... after traveling with you from the very beginning... you will not be taking me with you in the end?" Morrigan hissed, tapping her foot angrily.

"I'm sorry, Morrigan," Elissa replied, keeping her face neutral as she replied, "this is where we part ways."

"We _part_ ways... we..." Morrigan stuttered, and Elissa became unsure whether the woman was shaken by fury or fear as she caught her golden eyes.

"Thank you, Morrigan... for everything." Elissa said, reaching forward and catching the witch by her hands - holding on tight when she tried to pull away.

"I-I... I did not know what it meant to have a friend, once... a sister... but you, I would gladly consider you as such." Morrigan said, turning her face down to the ground - unable to continue to hold Elissa's eyes. "Now, Go... slay your Archdemon."

The witch shared a nod and a smile with the werewolf as Swiftrunner approached her. Elissa laughed. There had been rumor around Soldier's Peak of a great deal of noise coming from Morrigan's room during their stay there - and from the look between them, Elissa was certain it had been true.

"My Lady." Swiftrunner said, a light tilt of his head in her direction. He was wearing a dark suit of leather armor that Zevran had provided for him when it proved to be much too large for the elf. It absolutely suited the man.

"My Lord." Elissa curtseyed, laughing at the ridiculousness of that exchange and listening to him do the same - before reaching into the back of her armor where she had tucked a small sheaf of parchment intended for this particular companion. "I have something to ask of you, Swiftrunner. You can say no, but I... I trust no other to see it done."

"I am yours to command, Warden." the wolf smiled, but it was a shadow of what it would have been because he could read the serious look in her eyes as she handed over the paper.

"When this is over, I need you to find my brother, Fergus." Elissa explained, watching his eyes go wide, "he... he may not be alive. The last I knew he was lost somewhere in the Korcari Wilds. All of the information I have, anything that would help you to identify him and enough to convince Fergus that it was me who sent you is there in that parchment."

"Would it not be better to give this task to your King?" Swiftrunner asked, his eyes darting over to Alistair who was watching the exchange with great interest.

"Alistair will need time to recover after this, time to mourn." Elissa explained, and the wolf turned his head back with those words.

"To _mourn_... I don't..." Swiftrunner said, searching her eyes and not liking what he found there.

"Please, Swiftrunner... I need someone to do this for me, and I trust no one else." Elissa begged, wrapping his hands around the parchment and squeezing them there.

"O-of course..." the man nodded, shaken as he tucked the roll of paper away and took his place among his people.

Across the way, Alistair stood surrounded by a few of the companions that they would not be taking along – she caught his eyes, and smiled – watching him excuse himself politely and make his way back over to her.

"So this is it then." Alistair sighed, reaching forward to clasp both of her hands in his own. "Soon this will be finished, one way or another."

"I love you, Alistair." Elissa said suddenly, watching his face tilt back up to hers and focus in on her eyes. "I hope you know how much I mean that. How much I've _always_ meant that."

"And I love you." Alistair answered, releasing her hands and reaching up to lay his gauntlets on either side of her helm. "Always."

He kissed her then, putting everything he had ever felt for her into that moment and hoping that she felt the strength of his love for her. That she would allow it to continue to be the beacon that she required, as she had once referred to him over the many days now behind them.

She sighed as she pulled away, pulling loose her swords and motioning Zevran, Sten and Riordan into formation at their sides, then pressing through the gap in the broken Market gates and into the burning city. Both the qunari and the elf had resolutely refused to say any sort of goodbye - as though the very act would be admitting that they would not see her again come the end of the day.

* * *

><p>The Market District was swarmed by ogres, the great monstrosities lumbering about bashing in what remained of the crumbling structures in the square. Elissa took Sten and paired Alistair with Zevran – parting ways to take out as many of the ogres as possible on their way to the general they could trace back to the Alienage archway near the rear of the square. Riordan fought alongside them for a moment, but eventually Elissa lost sight of him in the chaos.<p>

By the time they reached the Alienage gates and the powerful darkspawn that lingered there, the senior Warden was long gone – the pull of his blood fading into the distance as he pressed forward in search of the dragon.

Alistair and Zevran had been fighting the general for some time when Elissa and Sten arrived, the assassin barely avoiding a fatal blow to his midsection just as they arrived. Elissa did the best she could to shield Zevran as he struggled to staunch the bleeding until the group could fell the monster and treat it properly.

Eventually, Sten grew enraged and kicked out his great leg – bouncing the spawn off the brick sidewall and right back into the sharp edge of his blade. The qunari slammed him back to the wall once again, pressing the blade until the metal of it clicked through against the stone and the general's head rolled away in front of him.

As soon as his body dropped, Elissa slid off her pack and retrieved a health potion and several poultices, reaching over to take the bandages Alistair offered and settling Zevran against the wall.

"You're getting slow in your old age." Elissa winked, attempting to smile and make light of the situation as she inspected and cleaned his wound – applying generous amounts of the poultice and pressing a potion into his hand.

"Don't you worry, my Warden." Zevran laughed, flinching slightly under her fingers and tossing back the health potion – slinging the empty vial to the side when he was done. "I will still be virile enough to ravage you properly once we are done with this pesky dragon."

Elissa laughed, securing the bandage then offering her hands to help him stand before moving off through the open portcullis that divided the Market from the Alienage.

* * *

><p>"Warden! It's you!" a worried elven woman called, and Elissa recognized Shianni once she reached the tree at the center of the area. "Thank the Maker for your sense of timing! There is a large group of darkspawn outside the barriers we erected. I'm afraid they won't hold much longer and once they break through…"<p>

"Go back the way we came." Elissa insisted, watching Shianni call out the various archers she'd scattered amongst the ruined structures that had once been her home. "The Market is free of any major threat, and the Dalish hold it now. Go to them and tell them I sent you into their care."

"I-I…" Shianni stuttered, the look on her face showing just how uncomfortable she was with the idea of turning to the Dalish for help. "A-alright, I only hope that we…"

"They will not trouble you, Shianni." Elissa assured her "They're keeper is a friend to me, and was once a City Elf herself. Now go!"

"They're breaking through!" one of the retreating elves called out, sending the rest of them running fearfully for the gates to the Market square.

"Run! All of you, now!" Elissa screamed, waving them past and inching forward to intercept whatever it was coming through the splintering wood of their barrier.

"It's another ogre." Alistair said, reaching out to sense it. "And a large swarm of drones – but the general is there. I can feel it."

Elissa nodded, sending Sten and Zevran in after the ogre and pushing forward at Alistair's side toward the general who had planted himself in the middle of the stone bridge that led from the Alienage slums into the Palace District.

The two Wardens were so focused on downing the general, which they only just managed to do with the added help of Sten and Zevran to hold back the constant onslaught from the unending stream of drones the creature commanded, that they did not notice the dragon circling overhead. Elissa barely saw it in time, her eyes flicking up from the shadow passing across them at the last second as it drew in a breath.

She hoped that Sten and Zevran would be able to get themselves clear, her only worry for Alistair as she ran at him full speed – throwing him to the ground and tearing his shield from his hand, slamming it to the stone next to their heads just in time to deflect the wall of purple flame that hit right behind it.

The fire bounced off his shield and caught on Elissa's calf, pulling a scream out of her mouth as she struggled to hold the shield in place as wave after wave of heat flared against it. When it ceased, Elissa tossed the shield to the side – rolling to her back and slamming her calf to the ground a couple of times to put out the flame – pounding her fist against the stone of the bridge below her and biting her tongue against the pain when Zevran lifted her leg into his lap and began to inspect it.

"Thank you." Alistair said, knowing she had saved him once again. He wouldn't have seen the dragon in time to dodge those flames, and looking at the burned and bloody flesh of Elissa's leg, he would definitely not have survived the burning.

"You're welcome." Elissa replied, hissing and flickering her eyes up to glare at Zevran when he prodded her aching leg again.

"What did you expect, my dear, you've lit your leg on fire." Zevran quipped, slathering it with poultice and wrapping it up. "You're going to have to have it cleaned properly once we're done to avoid infection – and it's going to scar."

"As long as it works, I don't care." Elissa said, letting Sten pull her back to standing.

"No turning back now." Alistair muttered, the party's eyes casting out over the ruined burning remnants of the bridge they stood on. "Best press forward."

* * *

><p>They followed the trail of the horde forward toward Fort Drakon, stopping when they reached the absolute carnage in the outer courtyard. It appeared that <em>none<em> of the city guard had survived the defense managed here. There were bodies absolutely everywhere around them, clogging up the great doors into the tower that stood slightly ajar as though they had been pried apart by very large hands.

Elissa started to move forward, but stopped suddenly, crying out and collapsing to the dirt – pressing a hand against her sternum.

"Elissa, what is it?" Alistair asked, knowing that the motion meant she had felt _something_ being communicated across the taint – but feeling nothing himself.

"Riordan… he's…" Elissa stifled a sob, wave after wave of trauma burning through her nerves – her body feeling as though a part of it was dying. "H-he's gone."

"How…" Zevran started to ask, wondering how it was she could know such a thing when none of them had seen the man since they separated in the Market – but silencing at the flicker of fury in Alistair's eyes.

That she had felt him die when Alistair did not offered verification of two things. One: that the connection between Wardens who had an intimate relationship was indeed profound, and two: that Elissa had indeed been intimate with Riordan. Alistair shouldn't have been surprised; he had known she'd slept with the man that last night in Redcliffe when she'd returned to his bed still smelling of sex, and of _him_. Still, he couldn't deny how much it hurt and infuriated him to see her struggling to stand as tears streaked through the ash and blood on her face.

"It's up to us now." Elissa sniffed, grimacing one last time then pulling free her blades and setting her resolve.

Something switched off in her mind then, all of them recognized it – the Elissa they knew had disconnected – what stood in front of them now was the Warden, the creature of vengeance and tainted blood that Howe had created and Avernus had amplified.

She took off then, throwing herself into the throng of darkspawn bodies before them – disappearing out of their range a flash of steel and a spray of blood from anything that dared to stand in her way.

Alistair shared a frightened glance with the assassin and the qunari at the sight of her. Sten had been there before the Chantry back in Redcliffe, so he had _some_ preparation for the thing that she could become – but Zevran, the elf looked shaken to his very core.

It was all the three of them could do to keep up with her as she cut a bloody swath up the tower. Demons, drakes, and massive waves of darkspawn who were _all_ Alphas at this point fell to her blade just the same. She took a blow here and there, her armor bloody and ragged in many spots as they pressed through the doors that would lead them up the final set of stairs to the Fort's summit.

When she stormed through the doors, the Archdemon snapped its head in her direction – screeching out in fury at the sensation of her. Alistair could see that one of its wings was completely shredded, bleeding dark drops of tainted fluids out onto the stone. Though Riordan had been unable to kill the thing, he had most certainly rendered it unable to escape them before he gave his life over to the Void.

Alistair could hear the shouts of the soldiers charging up the stairs behind them, various battlements of men – whomever remained, climbing the tower to launch their final assault. He sent several groups to man nearby ballistae, hoping to pump as many rounds into the beast as possible before the mechanisms were rendered inert by the still swarming darkspawn legion.

By the time he turned back, Elissa was charging forward at the dragon – tumbling to the side as it spewed a wall of purple flame in her direction – hissing and screeching with disgust when it sensed it had missed. She was punishing, and precise – dodging claws and bursts of flame as she darted around – slamming her swords into the beast's joints and attempting to render it completely unable to move.

It lumbered away on several occasions, whether intending to get out of her reach or to position itself to better command its flanking forces Alistair couldn't be sure. The Templars and the Magi had made it to the tower, along with what remained of Swiftrunner's forces – and they did a good job of keeping the drones and alphas too distracted to interfere with what Elissa was trying to do.

Eventually the great dragon lumbered to a halt, flopping slightly to one side and drawing in long heaving breaths. Elissa laid forward, palms to her knees, struggling to catch her breath and leveling a glance in Alistair's direction. She'd lost both of her longswords and her dagger in the fight, all of them lodged somewhere in the dragon's body – and Alistair watched her eyes follow his on to his father's blade.

He darted forward, intent on taking the blow that had to be taken – suddenly certain that Morrigan had been wrong, that she had _lied_, that if he didn't Elissa would die in front of him. But she was too fast, reaching him in record time and sliding to the stone – sweeping his legs from beneath him and pulling one of her small throwing daggers from her waist as she pinned him roughly to the stone.

"I'm sorry, Alistair." Elissa whispered, coming back into herself for a moment – tears glittering there in the emerald pools of her eyes as she touched his face softly. She leaned in to kiss him, and he closed his eyes – snapping them back open when he felt the tiny nick of her blade at his neck – and that was all it took.

"W-what have you done?" Alistair mumbled, his words sounding lethargic even to his own ears – his vision blurring as she pulled away from him. He struggled to sit, to stand – but seemed to have lost control of his limbs – his thoughts blurring together as he watched Elissa dart forward and tug a longsword loose from a nearby darkspawn corpse – kicking the broken body away as she ran forward.

He didn't see her slide beneath the Archdemon's massive purple body, slicing open its throat and bathing herself in its blood. He didn't see it flop down hard to the ground as she clambered across its back, up the neck, and straddled the head.

He felt himself being pulled to his feet, turning to meet Sten's eyes – the great violet orbs full of fear and concern, the two of them turning with Zevran and Swiftrunner to watch as Elissa raised the sword over her head and brought it down slamming it home through the Archdemon's skull.

For a moment, nothing happened – and Alistair held his breath, waiting… then tendrils of something resembling electricity started to surge forth from the skull, up and across the blade, and into Elissa. Her body twitched and flailed against it, her spine arching sideways unnaturally.

"Somebody stop it." Alistair muttered, his words slurred with the drug. "Pull her off. Get her off of it!"

Swiftrunner nodded, beginning to move forward toward her before a powerful surge of energy pulsed out of the nexus between her and the dragon – blowing them all to the ground and shooting large bits of the edge of the tower shattering free and plummeting to the ground below.

The world shook and wavered even after the energy dissipated, and Alistair struggled to hear anything – his eardrums humming and dampening all sound. Around him, men struggled to their feet – all of them looking to where Elissa had stood, and Alistair forced his eyes to follow theirs as much as he feared what he would find there.

She stood still, and for a brief second – Alistair believed she would simply step back from the blade undamaged by what he had witnessed – but it was not so. Her hands fell free from the blade and she dropped back to the ground – hitting hard against the stone. For a moment, no one moved – but then, he was up and running – the adrenaline in his veins pumping away the last of whatever toxin Elissa had put into him.

He dropped down hard at her side, dragging her into his lap and pulling free her helm. She was covered in blood, hers – his – darkspawn's, the Archdemon's – it was impossible to tell what if anything was injured.

"Elissa… _Elissa_…" Alistair pleaded, shaking her softly – brushing her matted hair back from her face – he leaned down, feeling for a pulse and listening to hear her breathing. Her pulse was thready and her breathing soft and very labored – but it was there. "**Healer!** I need a healer!" he cried, yanking off his own helm and tossing it to the ground. Glaring around as the seconds ticked by and no one responded to his requests for aid. "A hundred bloody mages and there isn't _one_ sodding healer here?"

He was furious that they were taking so long – setting Zevran, Swiftrunner and Sten into motion to help to locate one – the trio dragging several reluctant mages over to the kneeling King and his broken Queen. They inspected and treated her wounds as best they could, but none of them could decide what had rendered her unconscious – and none of them seemed hopeful that she stood to survive that pulse of energy.

"Fine. I will take her to a _proper_ healer then!" Alistair hissed, tugging her into his arms and striding angrily toward the tower doors in search of Wynne.

The walk down the tower was the longest of his life, his arms burning from the effort it took to bear Elissa's weight as she lay completely limp against him. Sten and Swiftrunner offered to share the burden several times, but Alistair refused. She was his burden to bear. Everything he had done, that horrible night with Morrigan, and he had failed her in the end. She would die - just like Duncan - and he would be left alone, on a throne he never wanted watching the world go on as though she had never been there at all.


	50. Chapter 50: In Stasis

**_Disclaimer_**_: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

**_A/N:_**_ Originally I thought there would only be a couple of chapters left after the last one, but after a bit of re-evaluation I've broken it down into three. I think it works better that way! Hope you guys feel the same!_

_***Apologies for the delay in postings! Was hit by some of the snowy weather and lost net access for several days!***  
><em>

_Thanks as usual to my readers, followers and reviewers! It is always fun to hear what you guys have to say :) _

_Extra special hugs to my Lady Beta _**_artemiskat_**_! She keeps me focused!_

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Fifty: In Stasis<strong>_

"Oi, Oren! Put that down!" Elissa called out, leaning forward to cup her hands around her mouth so that her voice would carry across the Lagoon to where her nephew played. He'd just picked up something that appeared to be a dead squirrel, and Elissa grimaced in disgust as he tossed it up and swatted at it with the fallen branch he'd been using as a sword.

"Give the boy a break, Lissa." Rory chuckled from beside her, leaning against the cool rock and kicking at the water, "You can't be a proper lad without poking at dead things with sticks."

"**I** never poked at dead things with sticks." Elissa insisted, shaking her head and watching Oren pick the squirrel up - _again_.

"And _you_ are decidedly **not** a lad." Cailan laughed, and Elissa turned to glare at him as he passed his eyes down to her chest raising an eyebrow before she shoved him and then Rory who had decided to join in the fun at her expense.

"Yes, well, _regardless_... I suspect Oriana will have my hide if he gets anything otherworldly from touching that…" Elissa said, dusting off her legs and pushing up off the rock to go and retrieve the boy, "and I'd rather _not_ hear what my mother would have to say. I've gotten more than enough lectures from her to last several lifetimes."

"Being dead doesn't change who you _are_, Elissa." Rory chuckled, smirking at her playfully, "And your mother has _always_ loved her lectures."

"Is it too much to ask for her to let up on me a even a _little_?" Elissa retorted, tossing her arms out in frustration, "It is the sodding beyond after all…" she looked to Oren, making a move to run after him, "Oren! Really! Your mother is going to have an absolute conniption!"

"I've got him." Rory insisted, jumping up and dashing over to the boy to retrieve and kick away the offending object.

Elissa watched them cautiously, finally allowing herself to relax as Rory engaged her nephew in swordplay to keep him from retrieving the squirrel corpse yet again. Cailan stood beside her, arms crossed.

"Look, Elissa... it's been wonderful seeing you again... and none of us _want_ you to go, but you know you can't stay here, don't you?" the former King asked her – his face impassive when she turned to look at him in surprise.

"What? Of _course_ I can." Elissa snorted, rolling her eyes at him. "This is _obviously_ my section of the Fade. Where else do you expect I should go?"

"I meant you can't stay in the Fade." Cailan explained, sighing at her refusal to listen. Her father had tried to reason with her weeks before but she'd blown him off as though he'd somehow managed to go daft in his afterlife.

"Cailan… I killed the bloody Archdemon…" Elissa sighed, running her fingers through her hair in frustration that she was having to go through this yet again. She'd hoped to be allowed to get a proper rest now that she was dead. "I know you weren't a Grey Warden, but I assure you, you **don't** come back from that. It's the whole reason we exist."

"You're not dead, Elissa." Cailan insisted, turning her to face him and refusing to be ignored. "You've been sleeping, but it's time you woke up. It's not time for you to be here, and your friends - your _life_ - it's all waiting."

"I'm _not_ dead… but I…" Elissa stuttered, something clicking home – something finally registering that she had been content to ignore for so long. "How is this possible?"

"I don't know, I only know that it is." Cailan answered, watching her turn to look at her nephew and her oldest friend playing as the dark cloud of sadness that he'd seen when last they met in the living world settled down upon her once again. "If you want answers, you're going to have to wake up and ask for them. I can't give you any here."

* * *

><p>Hours turned into days and days into weeks and still Elissa did not wake. After the first two nights of sharing a bed with her unconscious body, Wynne finally convinced Alistair to move Elissa into the adjoining room in the Royal Suite so that she could tend to her properly through the night while giving him time and space to get some rest of his own.<p>

Their friends cycled in and out, each attempting to rouse Elissa from her slumber with prayers or stories, or simply by holding her hand in stoic silence, as was Sten's case. The qunari hadn't seemed capable of managing speech at all since she fell atop Fort Drakon, and Alistair often found himself wishing that the giant would challenge him to a manly duel or threaten his right to lead Ferelden - anything to snap him out of this melancholia consumed him for days on end.

Morrigan vanished following their victory against the darkspawn horde. Alistair saw a momentary flash of her as she popped into raven form and took flight immediately after Wynne assured them that Elissa would live. Though he tried to let it go and focus on Elissa and her recovery, Alistair found his anger toward the witch building as the days passed. He began to believe that she had neglected to tell him when offering her _deal_ that though Elissa's body would survive, her mind would be destroyed in the process, leaving behind the empty shell that he now found himself forced to helplessly observe wasting away in a bed next door to where he slept. He set a deadline and swore to himself that if Elissa did not wake within it, he would track the witch down despite his promise not to, and put an end to her _and_ his demon baby no matter the consequences.

Alistair gave the few surviving members of Swiftrunner's clan leave to return to The Peak and continue to make their home there, though the man himself chose to remain with the others at Elissa's side. As the days passed the wolf developed an odd sort of friendship with the assassin. The two traded rogue secrets and antidotes and sparred together regularly. They claimed it was to keep themselves from going soft from lack of activity, but Alistair suspected – like everyone else – the men simply needed something to distract themselves from the lack of progress in Elissa's condition.

The First Warden contacted him with regard to Elissa's… _survival_… and Alistair played dumb in response to his questions. He knew the day would come when one or both of them would have to answer for his decision to participate in Morrigan's ritual in exchange for her life – but he was content to put that moment off for as long as possible. The First Warden, surprisingly, also supported his decision to name Elissa as Warden-Commander of Ferelden, should she decide to wake again. Alistair accepted on her behalf and added that to the long list of things she was sure to be angry with him about once she was up and about.

"How is she today?" Alistair asked, striding into the room and sitting in the chair at her bedside – reaching over to take her hand and stroke near the ring he'd placed on her finger weeks before. It was the way he started every morning – before beginning the torturous process of being trained on the finer points of nobility by his uncle.

"Much the same as always." Wynne replied, sighing and putting down the scrolls she had been thumbing through – searching, as usual, for any explanation for what kept Elissa from returning from wherever she had gone. "Her body is healed and all of the knowledge I have leads me to believe she _should_ be waking. I think it is time to consider asking for help, Alistair."

"Contact the First Enchanter if you like." Alistair replied, continuing to watch the steady rise and fall of Elissa's chest as he stroked her hair. She looked completely at peace – just a beautiful girl taking a well-deserved nap. The bruises and scars of their battle with the Archdemon had long ago faded. "I'll send one of the messengers up to see you this afternoon if you prepare a missive."

"I have already spoken to Irving, he has nothing new to offer that he did not tell me on his last visit." Wynne explained, knowing that Alistair followed her but refused to acknowledge what she was attempting to suggest. "You should send Swiftrunner to Soldier's Peak and have him escort…"

"**No**." Alistair replied, his amber eyes flicking over to hers in anger. "I am not all together certain that something Avernus did hasn't put her in this state in the first place. I won't have him _touching_ her while she's unconscious and unable to defend herself. There's no telling what he would do to her in the name of his _research_ without her here to stay his hand."

"I'd mediate any interactions between them, Alistair." Wynne assured him, frustrated that he would not give in and strained as she was running out of ideas, "I really think this is one of the only options we have left."

"What about contacting the Circle and having them send some mages and some lyrium?" Alistair said, his brow furrowed with worry, "You could perform a ritual similar to the one they did to reach Connor in Redcliffe. Go and look for her in the Fade and bring her back."

"I-I… had considered that option…" Wynne admitted, hesitating to explain any further as Alistair was very near his breaking point and she did not want to strain his patience anymore than it already was.

"If you had considered it, then why haven't you acted on it?" Alistair asked, his frustration continuing to rise with every word out of Wynne's mouth.

"I was hoping it wouldn't come to that because it is entirely possible that even _if_ we found her in such a way, we would discover that she did not want to come back." Wynne replied, watching Alistair swallow down the idea distastefully – struggling to contain his temper.

"It is also possible that she's being held there by a demon and waiting for one of us to rescue her. We don't know what that blast did to her, Wynne. What if she's trapped in there? What if she's _been_ trapped this whole time and we've done _nothing_?" Alistair hissed, slamming his fist against her bed hard enough to shake it.

"Hey… watch it…" came a voice, rough from disuse and soft as she was still waking – but the tone of it unmistakable.

"E-Elissa?" Alistair said, eyes wide as he turned with Wynne to see her rubbing at her eyes and trying to sit up.

"Water?" she rasped, setting Wynne into motion to pour her a glass as Alistair helped her to sit – puffing up the pillows and trying to make her comfortable.

"Maker, I… t-this is _real_, right?" he turned to Wynne for verification. "I haven't really slept in days… t-tell me I'm not hallucinating." The next thing he knew, Elissa smacked him hard across the face.

"There. Do you _still_ think it's a dream?" Elissa asked, she smirked – but her eyes were hard and joyless.

"Ouch! That smarted!" Alistair hissed, reaching up to rub at his cheek and wondering if she'd come back _wrong_ somehow. "You aren't _possessed_ are you?"

"Yes, Alistair, I've been taken by a demon." Elissa drawled, rolling her eyes at him, "Perhaps you should tumble about in the floor like Teagan for my amusement."

"Good to have you back, my dear." Wynne chuckled, patting Elissa's shoulder and placing the pitcher at her bedside in case she should want more water. "I'll give you two some time to… talk."

They both watched as Wynne strolled out of the room, closing the door behind her softly. Alistair turned back to the bed then, winding his fingers into Elissa's and kissing her hand softly. He could not believe she was back, she was there and looking at him again – appearing as though nothing had ever been wrong.

He stood from the chair, settling on the bed beside her and stroking her cheek before he leaned in to kiss her.

"You slept with her." Elissa said, and he stopped mid lean – eyes flicking up to hers fearfully.

"I-I'm sorry?" Alistair replied, hoping he had misheard her – but reading the dangerous gleam in her eyes well enough to know that he had not.

"Morrigan. You _slept_ with her." Elissa repeated, pulling her hands away from him and folding her arms across her chest. "Don't look at me as though you have no idea what I'm talking about, Alistair. You couldn't have _honestly_ believed she came to you with that lunacy **first**. I **know** you're not as stupid as you pretend to be."

"I-I… Elissa, you have to understand…" Alistair said, reaching out for her again and flinching when she curled out of his range onto the other side of the bed.

"I have to understand _what_ exactly?" she hissed at him, eyes narrowed in her fury. It honestly had never occurred to him that Morrigan might have come to her first, and that she would wake from her slumber seething and angry rather than grateful to be alive. "That you lay with another, someone you _claimed_ to hold in nothing but ill regard, in order to keep me alive despite my wishes to the contrary? It was **my time**, Alistair! I shouldn't be here! I'm _supposed_ to be dead!"

"Be angry if you want, but don't you **dare** lecture me about fidelity, Elissa!" he snapped, his own temper breaking free as he rose furiously from the bed, "Not when you came to our bed covered in Riordan that same night!"

"Y-yes, well _Riordan_ is dead – and I am **certainly** not carrying his _demon_ child about in my womb!" Elissa retorted, shocked for a moment that he had known about what she'd done all along and said nothing.

"Is **that** what this is about? The baby?" Alistair asked, sitting down again at her side – his anger fading slightly at the consideration that she might be genuinely hurt that he'd fathered a child with another when they were unlikely to ever have their own.

"No. What this is _about_ is your need to interfere in the natural order of the world!" she yelled, and Alistair was shocked by the icy fury in her eyes. He had never, in all their time together, had her look at him in this way. "It was **my time**. I did what I said I would. I avenged my family. I killed the Archdemon. I saved the bloody world! It was time for me to go, Alistair – and **you** fucked it all up. You can't just muck about in the ether like that and expect there not to be repercussions! _Someone_ will pay for what you've done. What **we've** done. You, me, that… **demon** in the body of a child…"

"I'm sorry, Elissa… I wasn't ready to let you go. I won't apologize for that." Alistair insisted, his words chosen carefully as he didn't want to prod her temper any more – nor did he wish to further incite his own. "I didn't think…"

"That's right! You didn't think!" Elissa hissed, not affording him any of the kindness he offered to her, fully absorbed by her rage, "You never bloody do! Now **leave me**!"

"I'm not going anywhere…" he insisted, crossing his arms and standing resolutely in front of her.

"Get out or I swear to the bloody Maker I will **put** you out, _permanently_ if need be!" she yelled, pushing herself to her feet in spite of the weakness in her unused limbs. "I cannot even stand to **look** at you right now!"

She pointed at the door, shaking either from the strain of standing or the force of her fury. Alistair stood there for a moment longer before giving in and stomping out the door, slamming it behind him and listening to the glass shatter against it when she tossed what had likely been the glass or pitcher from her bedside against the wood behind him.

* * *

><p>Elissa lay back on the bed, panting now that her temper and the last energy she could pull from her atrophied muscles had faded. She stared at the ceiling with her mind racing. She was adrift and desperately trying to find something familiar to cling to.<p>

Before, she had a focus – a **goal**. Now? Now there was nothing. She had served her purpose, had earned her rest… and Alistair had taken it from her.

A tentative knock at the door roused her senses, and she breathed in – pushing it back out in a torrent before sitting up to glare at the door as though she could burn it to ash with just her eyes.

"Go away! Andraste's ass, just **go away**!" Elissa yelled, flopping back again and covering her eyes with the drape of an arm.

The door opened regardless of her request, and she prepared herself to present a more convincing threat or the appropriate capitulation – whatever was required to get whomever this was back _out_ of her room.

"Blimey, Lissa… you still throw a wicked temper tantrum, don't you?" came a very familiar grumble followed by joyous laughter. "I hope nothing you destroyed was an irreplaceable royal heirloom."

"Fergus?" Elissa replied, sitting slowly – her eyes wide.

"Who else would be stupid enough to brave your fury?" Fergus laughed, barely managing to hold himself upright when she launched up off the bed and threw herself into his arms.

"I can't believe it! I can't believe you're here!" Elissa continued, clinging to him for fear that he would vanish if she let go and sobbing on his shoulder.

"Okay… _Okay_… I get it, you missed me! Can you let me breathe now?" Fergus groused, feeling her relax around him and slide to the floor with a sheepish grin – wondering when she got so strong. "I've missed you too, sister."

"When did you? How did you?" Elissa asked, backing up to the bed and sitting down – watching Fergus settle next to her.

"Your friend with the odd name found me." Fergus answered, watching her brow knit as she searched her memory for a name that seemed more odd than the others. "Squallchaser… Squabhunter?"

"Swiftrunner?" Elissa asked, unable to contain her laughter at his attempts to come up with the name. "Honestly, Fergus… Squabhunter?"

"Seemed just as likely as _Swiftrunner_." Fergus replied, frowning at her mockery. "What kind of name is that anyway? He didn't _look_ tribal."

"It's a long story…" Elissa replied, not really wanting to get into the whole werewolf thing at the moment, though Fergus would have **loved** to hear about it.

"I bet you have quite a few of them now…" Fergus answered, smiling softly at her as he reached over to take her hands into his own. "When I heard that my little sister was not only a Grey Warden, but had lead the entire country into battle, ended the Blight, and agreed to become Queen… I was _surprised_, to put it mildly."

"You were _surprised_?" Elissa asked, smiling as she punched him playfully in the shoulder.

"Pleasantly, pleasantly surprised!" Fergus answered, rubbing where she'd hit and pretending it hurt far more than it actually did. "Father… he would have been **so** proud of you, Elissa. I know I am. You've done a lot of good for a lot of people."

"Just not the most important ones…" Elissa said, fighting down the waves of emotion when she thought back on what they had lost. "I'm _so_ sorry, Fergus… about Oren and Oriana…"

"Yes, I'm… I'm trying not to think too much about them…" Fergus admitted, squeezing her hands and looking down for a moment. When he passed his eyes back up, Elissa could see the anger mixed in among the pain. "Howe was a greedy, traitorous bastard! I only wish I had been there to help you kill him."

"I should have tried harder to find you." Elissa said, not wanting to stay on the subject of Howe for any longer in case Fergus should decide to bring up Nathaniel. She reached up for his ring, ensuring that the cord was well hidden beneath her shirt.

"You would probably have been wasting your time, to be honest. I never made it to the battle at Ostagar. We were scouting the Wilds and ambushed by a party of darkspawn." Fergus explained, his eyes distant as he recalled the tale. "Most of my men were killed, and I woke up two weeks later in a Chaisnd hut, wounded and feverish. By the time I'd recovered and begun to work my way out of the Wilds, you were already marching to Denerim. I tried to send word to Highever… but that didn't go well as you can imagine."

"I can do more than imagine…" Elissa said, choking back the tears that welled up again.

"Mother and Father went down fighting, and it wasn't in vain." Fergus replied, reaching over to squeeze her shoulders when she faltered under the weight of her guilt. "You survived, just as they intended, and went on to save the entire kingdom."

"I didn't do it alone." Elissa replied, still reluctant to take praise, even from her brother.

"None of us do anything alone." Fergus laughed, tucking her hair behind her ears. "And, while we're on the topic of your rag tag band of miscreants… there is a long line of people, other than me, who want to see you… including a very large, sleep-deprived qunari which _we_ will talk about later. Can I tell them that it's safe to come in or do you need to toss some more rubbish about?"

"No, I think I'm alright now." Elissa laughed, looking at the path of destruction she'd wreaked around her room. "Besides, there isn't much left to break aside from the furniture and it's all much heavier than you'd think from looking at it."

"So you _tried_!" Fergus said, toppling over on his side in laughter.

"I _might_ have attempted to toss a chair…" Elissa answered, surrendering herself over to laughter of her own and laying back beside her brother.

"He loves you, you know." Fergus said when the laughter died down, watching her eyes flicker up to his face when he made reference to Alistair. "And he's a good man. You could do worse than that, Elissa. You **have** done worse than that, actually."

"You don't know the whole story." Elissa replied, sitting upright.

"I'm certain that I don't. And I'm certain that you aren't going to tell me." Fergus answered, standing up and moving to the door. "Just give him a chance, Elissa. I know you're angry – and I'm sure you have a perfectly good reason to be… but the man hasn't left your side for more than a few hours since I got here. Whatever it was that he did, that has got to be count for something."

Elissa nodded, taking in and letting out a deep breath as her brother disappeared out the door frustrated, but knowing he was right.

* * *

><p>Elissa spent the next few hours eating numerous plates of food and entertaining wave after wave of well-wishers and companions until Wynne, sensing her discomfort, dismissed them all for the evening claiming that Elissa was still recovering and needed her rest.<p>

_Thank you_, Elissa mouthed, watching the elder mage nod as she moved out the door, shutting it softly behind her.

She heard Alistair enter the Royal Bedchamber next door a few moments later, and her eyes flickered over to the door that separated this room from that one. So little separated them; just a slab of wood and a few yards – and yet she had never felt further away from the man.

She wanted to go to him, to just forget and put everything behind them, to accept that she was here and alive and that he had loved her enough to risk _everything_ to keep her here – but after all that had passed between them, everything they had done… and _not_ done… seemed an insurmountable obstacle.

She could hear him walking around, could sense the pull of his tainted blood when he stopped on the other side of that door and considered coming to speak with her… finally moving away when the decision had been made. She lay down then, tucking herself under her blankets and willing her mind to quiet – her heart not to feel for him – her body not to desire his touch. Eventually she gave in, tossing back the blankets and stomping restlessly to the door but hesitating again as she reached for it.

"Ugh." Elissa muttered, stomping away from the door to the opposite side of the room and glaring back at the slab of wood as though it had done something offensive. "Honestly, Elissa, you killed the bloody Archdemon but you can't open a door and go talk to the man you're _supposed_ to marry…"

She heard Alistair moving around, could feel it when he stopped back at the door again himself – no doubt reacting to her motion inside her room, or the sound of her talking to herself. She walked back over to the door – reaching out for the handle and tugging it open to find him standing there staring at her.

"Hi," it was nothing, but all she could manage.

"Hi," it was nothing, but everything he needed to say.

He reached out for her then, drawing her into his arms and feeling her settle against him – the curves of her body as familiar as his own.

"I missed you." Elissa said, realizing just how true that was as the words flowed out of her mouth.

"And I missed you… Maker, I missed you so much…" Alistair replied, kissing her hair – breathing in the scent of her. "Can we fix this? Tell me we can fix this, Elissa. I-I can't bear the thought of losing you after everything we've…"

"I-I don't know…" she answered honestly, feeling his body tense up in response as he drew away from her. "I'm sorry, Alistair… I've only just woken up and it's a lot to process… We've both made mistakes, **huge**, mistakes – and we have to answer for those – to each other and to the world."

"So there's no hope?" he said, and she could hear him breaking as he turned to walk away from her.

"I didn't say that." Elissa replied, reaching out to grab his arm and turn him back to face her. "What else is there when hope is gone?" He smiled, taking her hands again, "But it will take time… not just for me, but for you. What I did… with Riordan… it was just as bad as what you did with Morrigan. I know that now, and it was wrong of me to make you feel otherwise."

"Can we not talk about that tonight? Any of it?" Alistair requested, folding her in his arms again. "I feel like I haven't slept in ages, and I'd just like to have this one night in this bed with you. We don't have to _do_ anything… I just want to lie next to you again. If you want to keep separate rooms tomorrow, or until we figure all of this out, that's fine… but tonight…"

She nodded, allowing herself to be led back to the King's bed and folding herself into his arms once again, temporarily at peace with the world.


	51. Chapter 51: Coronation and Compromise

_**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** So, yeah, what was just a couple more chapters turned out to be four. The breaks just didn't make sense otherwise! Have no fear, they are all done and just require simple edits before posting so you will have much to read and a whole new book starting soon :) _

_Thanks to my readers, reviewers and followers and my wonderful Lady Beta **artemiskat**!_

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Fifty-One: Coronation and Compromise<strong>_

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Elissa rotated her time between aiding in Alistair's preparation for his impending coronation (_or doom if you asked him about it_) and spending time with one or another of their companions. She had been thrilled to discover upon waking that all of them had agreed to stay around at least through Alistair's ceremony, though most were set to depart afterward for one place or another. She had not been surprised not to find Morrigan among them, considering that she woke from what _should_ have been her final rest - but it still pained her to think that she might never see the woman again. Regardless of what had passed between them in the end, she had considered the witch to be a friend and it hurt to think they had somehow come to this place where they were more likely to end up as enemies.

Publicly Alistair and Elissa put on a brave face, convincing all those save their closest friends that they were the perfect adoring couple. Privately every moment was a struggle against their guilt and anger – both of which built a stronger thicker wall between them with each passing day.

Elissa had moved into the main bedroom with Alistair after her first night awake again, but though they shared a bed – they had not been intimate since before their ill spent night in Redcliffe Castle. They'd made several attempts as the attraction between them both from the mutual feelings they shared and the pull of their tainted blood kept them both in a state of unrequited desire on a daily basis – but each attempt ended the same. Alistair could not forget that she had last been with Riordan, and Elissa could not forget that he had last been with Morrigan. It was a problem, a **big** one – and they both knew it.

"Don't bite my head off for saying this, but it suits you…" Alistair said, standing in front of his mirror and doing the best he could to straighten the gold and red finery he was covered in.

"What?" Elissa replied, fidgeting again with the gold sash at the waist of her dress and thinking that Eamon had intentionally chosen to dress her in red velvet as it made her look as though she was covered in blood even _out_ of her armor.

"Nobility… being a Queen… the dress… take your pick." he replied, unsurprised when she pursed her lips and rolled her eyes at him.

"I don't see what was _so _wrong about wearing my armor." Elissa complained, stepping away from her mirror and going over to help Alistair finish up before he managed to tear something with his nervous fingers. "It's brand new so it isn't as though it was going to have Archdemon bits on it or something."

"It **is** Archdemon bits, Elissa." Alistair laughed, relaxing a little when she did the same. "And Wade's crowning jewel of achievement no less."

"Let's get on with it then," she sighed, reaching up to tuck her hand into the elbow that he offered her on his way out the door. "The sooner we get done with this and get me out of this dress, the less homicidal I will feel."

"I can have you out of that dress right now if you'd like…" he muttered under his breath, watching her cheeks color and her eyes go wide with the thought that one of the numerous castle staff milling about might have heard him.

"_Alistair_!" Elissa hissed, covering her surprise with a smile that was a little too wide.

"What? Just because we **aren't** having sex, doesn't mean I'm not thinking about it all the time." Alistair replied, watching the color of her blush continue to travel from her cheeks down her neck and onto the swell of her breasts where they peeked out the bodice of her dress. "Especially when you look like that. Don't forget, I've never seen you in a dress before."

"You've seen me _naked_, Alistair… I'd think that to be far more tempting than some stupid dress." Elissa snorted, steering him roughly around the corner when he nearly went the wrong way in his distraction.

"Elissa! Now is not really the best time to talk about that!" he warned her, making a not so subtle gesture to his pelvis with his free hand before she swatted his hand down with an angry hiss, glancing around to make sure no one had seen. "This finery crap doesn't hide things the way my armor used to, and I've got to stand in front of a room of people in a few moments."

"You started it!" she said, unable to stop the laughter that began to bubble up inside her as they reached the outer doors to the Landsmeet hall.

Alistair lost it soon after, feeling - for the first time in a long time - that things between them might actually be okay one day.

* * *

><p>The coronation ceremony though short and sweet, was delayed several times when either Alistair or Elissa lost themselves to the fit of laughter that had started outside the chamber doors. The Grand Cleric was not impressed, which only made them laugh harder – unable to contain themselves even when the woman moved back to stand next to Eamon, fixing them with the most unpleasant look either of them could imagine.<p>

"My friends, though the Grand Cleric and my Uncle would have you believe that we are gathered here today to put a piece of shiny and highly uncomfortable metal on my head," Alistair said, managing to maintain himself even when Elissa started chuckling again as he thumped his crown hard enough to have it ding audibly, "what I actually called you all together for was to celebrate those responsible for the victory that made it possible for me to stand here today." He gestured down to the group of their companions gathered at the front of the crowd. "None of this would have been possible without this group of people, more family than friends, and no words I say will thank them enough for all they have done."

The crowd started to react for the first time that evening, Elissa leading the cheering with very un-queenly shouts of her own from behind where Alistair stood on the dais.

"But… of those who stood against the darkspawn in the siege of Denerim, there is one in particular who deserves commendation." He continued, hearing Elissa beginning to fall silent behind him when she realized what he was about to do. "The one who led the charge against the Archdemon remains with us still – in spite the odds. She is an inspiration to all of us whom she saved that day." He swung his arm back then, reaching for her hand with a wink and a smile – fully aware she'd have him later for tossing her in front of the crowd this way, but willing to suffer the consequences. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I formerly present my betrothed… soon to be your Queen, The Warden-Commander and Hero of Ferelden."

"Using my title instead of my name won't save you from the payback coming for this one, Alistair." Elissa muttered, covering her grimace with a smile as the cheers and catcalls welled up from the crowd – many of whom, like Alistair, had never seen her in a dress before. "And Hero of Ferelden? _Really_? Did Fergus come up with that one?"

"It _may_ have come from a chat I had with your brother after one too many ales... but don't throw either of us to the darkspawn yet. Not when you haven't heard the good part!" Alistair whispered, smiling beside her and trying not to laugh at the look of abject horror on her face before he started projecting his voice out to the crowd again. "My love, it is hard to imagine how you could have aided Ferelden more. And so… I think it only appropriate that I give you a gift worthy of the sacrifices you have made. As a reward for your boundless loyalty to your country and its people, and as an _engagement_ present, I offer you the boon of your choice."

"Alright, you sneaky bastard, two can play at this game." Elissa mumbled, smirking back at him before raising her own voice, "I ask only that the sacrifices of the Grey Wardens, **not** just my own, never be forgotten again."

"I think I can manage that." Alistair smiled, proud that she'd requested the very thing he had already intended to give and that he had been able to read her well enough to know what was coming. "We will begin with a monument erected here in Denerim for all the Grey Wardens who have fallen."

"I think that sounds like a wonderful idea, Your Majesty." Elissa said, eyes glittering with mischief as she curtseyed before him, turning to fade into the background once again at the assumption he was done.

"There is one more thing, my Queen…" Alistair said, watching Elissa swing back to him with a confused look. "Let it be known that from this day forward the arling of Amaranthine, formerly the lands of Arl Howe, is now granted to the Grey Wardens. You can rebuild the order there, following the example of those that went before them."

He beamed at her, waiting for the joyous reaction he was sure was coming his way. He knew how much what Arl Howe did to her family had eaten at her, and he couldn't think of a better way to begin reclaiming what he'd taken from her than to take over his family home the way he had attempted to take her own.

"Alistair… what… what are you doing?" Elissa asked, eyes wide – horrified that he would consider Amaranthine, of all places, an appropriate gift for her on _any_ occasion. "We have Soldier's Peak… I can rebuild the order there perfectly well and you _know_ that!"

"Well, now you have Soldier's Peak **and** Amaranthine." Alistair replied, trying his best to look unshaken as they whispered frantically back and forth and tried not to call any more attention to themselves than they already had. "This way you can keep The Peak mostly under wraps in case we need it again some day, and use Amaranthine as the public base of operations. I-I don't understand what the problem is, Elissa. I thought you'd like this."

"Well, you were wrong… _again_…" Elissa hissed, shaking her head and clipping off down the stairs to mingle – leaving a very confused Alistair in her wake.

* * *

><p>Though Eamon kept reminding her that the crowd gathered outside wanted a glimpse of the <em>Hero of Ferelden<em> and future Queen – Elissa took her time speaking to each of their companions as she knew that most of them were leaving within the next few days. Even Fergus was heading out in the morning, making his way back to Highever to begin the efforts to rebuild and reclaim their childhood home. He had made her promise that she would visit soon and make her peace with it, but she knew that was unlikely to happen. Even if she did go to see him, Highever would never again be her home and she would never be at peace with the atrocities she had witnessed there.

Wynne and Shale were leaving in three days on a trip to Tevinter to make an effort to discover any information they could on how to reclaim her squishy human body, after which Wynne intended to return to the Circle and Shale intended to return to the palace and offer her continued services to Alistair and Elissa in whatever form she could give them.

Leliana was leading an expedition to further research and protect the Urn of Sacred ashes, and though she had no idea how long the massive undertaking would require, believed that she would one day return to the Chantry and reclaim her life as a Sister once again.

Oghren was in the middle of a pickle juice drinking contest with Teagan, which Teagan was winning - much to Elissa's immense amusement, but the dwarf stopped chugging the briny liquid long enough to assure her that he was staying topside back near Lake Calenhad with Felsi.

Zevran and Swiftrunner were sticking to the edge of the crowd near the back of the room with Sten – and Elissa was thankful for the generous mug of ale that the assassin shoved into her hand as she made her way over to them finally.

"Saving the best for last, are you?" Zevran smirked, winking at her cheekily.

"You know it." Elissa replied, knocking back half the mug in one pull. "I don't know about you lot, but I for one will be happy to see all this pomp and circumstance come to an end."

"While I have very much enjoyed seeing you in such a _lovely_ garment, my lady, I will agree with your desire to see the event end." Swiftrunner offered, smirking at her when she glared at his reference to her dress.

"Such events are the perfect opportunities for assassins." Zevran said, running a thumb casually around the lip of his own mug. "I can't help but expect the Crows to appear at any moment… which would be a welcome break, mind you."

"I'd gladly take a bloodbath if it got me out of this nightmare!" Elissa laughed, allowing Sten to take her mug and fill it once again from the keg behind him.

"You see? _This_ is why I like you, my Warden." Zevran laughed, sharing a grin with the others. "Always game for a little fun."

The group fell silent for a moment, laughter mixing with more serious undertones when they all thought about what lay ahead for them in the days to come.

"I have heard a rumor that you were returning to the Grey Warden fold soon." Zevran said, sharing a look with Swiftrunner that Elissa couldn't miss. "Is that true?"

"Well, Alistair named **me** Warden-Commander in his little pep-rally before the siege – which, the First Warden for some reason far beyond my ability to understand, is supporting… and now I've been given Amaranthine to convert… so… yes, I suppose it is." Elissa answered, glaring up at Alistair in frustration and turning away when he looked up from whatever he had been talking to her brother about and met her eyes.

"Then, I have a suggestion – if I may. I have been speaking with the wolf here, and we have decided that it is highly likely that there are remnants of the factions who supported either Loghain or Howe who would still aim to do either you or your King harm." Zevran explained, watching the entirely realistic possibility dawn in Elissa's eyes, as she looked first to him, and then to Swiftrunner. "We would like to remain in the service of the crown, bodyguards if you will, until such time that we are not needed or that you wish for us to go."

"You want to _stay_ with us?" Elissa asked, looking at them both in surprise. It hadn't occurred to her that they would desire to remain now that everything was over.

"I have grown rather… _fond_… of you." Swiftrunner said, smirking at her over his mug.

"As have I." Zevran continued, laughing lightly. "Sad… but true."

"I have to say... I-I rather like the idea of you two sticking around." Elissa admitted, feeling as though a weight was lifted with the very idea that she might keep their highly entertaining, if not completely inappropriate, senses of humor nearby.

"Let us go and seek approval from your King, then." Swiftrunner said, squeezing her shoulder as he and Zevran left – giving her a chance to speak with Sten.

"You keep looking at me as though I've sprouted wings or something." Elissa said, stepping a bit closer to him.

"No." Sten replied, continuing to stare at her.

"What is it then?" Elissa asked, starting to worry. "You aren't going to challenge me to another battle royal for the right to lead are you? Because I only have a dagger under this dress and I don't think that's any match for your broadsword."

"No, kadan. You are a fit leader, for your order and your people." Sten replied, still looking mildly uncomfortable though he laughed at her joke.

"Then what? You look as though you might be ill and it's not like you to be at a lack of words for anything." Elissa prodded, reaching out and placing her hand on his arm.

"I have decided to return to my people." Sten said, watching Elissa shift uncomfortably. "Your quest is done, and thus – so is my reason for accompanying you."

"I could go with you, if you like." Elissa spat, the words popping out of her mouth before she even knew she was saying them. It had been a gut reaction to the thought of his departure, but made the offer no less genuine.

"Is that truly what you want?" Sten asked, violet eyes flickering up to hers and holding them. "There is much to hold you here, and it is a long journey to a land that will not be hospitable to you."

"I'm not saying I will stay forever… I _can't_ stay forever, obviously… but, I would like to see your home – to learn more of your people… and I think I've earned a slight reprieve before I'm shipped off to the next battle." Elissa explained, realizing this was exactly what she wanted to do. "Besides, somebody has to make sure you don't lose your sword again."

"Funny." Sten replied, frowning in an attempt to cover his laughter. "If you truly wish to come, I have a ship preparing to leave tonight. Make the preparations and goodbyes you require, and then meet me there once this celebration is over." He continued, looking up to Alistair and then back to the small odd woman who had become his closest friend. "If I do not see you there, panahedan, kadan. May you always find the path you seek."

* * *

><p>Alistair was completely drained by the time he made it back to the Royal Suite. Elissa had excused herself hours before, claiming to have a headache – but Alistair knew better. She was still fuming about his poorly chosen engagement gift. He'd had a lengthy and passionate discussion about it with her brother, who's idea it had been in the first place, and Fergus assured him that Elissa's mood would pass... eventually.<p>

He sat down on the bed and began peeling off his exceptionally uncomfortable clothing, the muffled sounds of Elissa fumbling with her things in the room next door making it clear that she was in the suite even if she hadn't yet come to their room. He would have been content to simply let her come to him when she was ready, had there not been a loud clatter of metal followed by a long string of curses.

Panic drove him into the room, barreling through the door and expecting to find her fighting off assassins – not shoving the things that had clattered to the floor into her pack from where she crouched fully armed and armored in front of him.

"What's going on?" he asked, moving fully into the room.

"I-I'm leaving, Alistair." she replied, turning her back on him as she retrieved more of her belongings from the bed and shoved them into her pack. "Sten has a ship off the docks in Amaranthine. He's going home to report to the Arishok, and I'm... I'm going with him."

"**What?** To Par Vollen?" Alistair hissed, glaring at her as he moved over to the bed.

"Yes, to Par Vollen… do you know of any _other_ qunari home land?" Elissa retorted irritably.

"Elissa… the qunari aren't exactly _fond_ of outsiders… Sten himself has tried to kill **both** of us on a number of occasions and **he's** our friend." Alistair said, thinking this was just one of her crazy ideas she could be talked out of with the appropriate application of logic.

"Sten's told the Arishok about me – and he has guaranteed my safety himself." Elissa replied, not even bothering to meet his eyes.

"Is this about Amaranthine?" he started, reaching out to touch her arm.

"No… this isn't about Amaranthine, not entirely." she replied, yanking her arm away and running her fingers through her hair restlessly but still not looking at him.

"Then… it's about _us_…" Alistair said, swallowing hard and trying not to let the fear that was welling up inside him take over.

"It's not just that either. It's _everything_. It's all just too much to take – I-I can't wrap my head around it all and so I need to step away for a moment…" Elissa said, pacing as she tried to explain.

"Running away isn't the answer, Elissa." he assured her, noticing fearfully that she wasn't wearing his ring for the first time since he'd given it to her.

"I'm not running away… I just… I need **time** – away from this, and away from you." she said, finally looking up to meet his eyes as she walked over to him and reached for his hand and pressed the Theirin signet inside of it.

"So this is it, then? This is how it ends? Were you even going to tell me if I hadn't come back and found you here?" Alistair said, his voice breaking as the emotions started to become more than he could control. "Or were you just planning on disappearing without a word?"

"I was going to leave a note…" Elissa began, silenced when Alistair rushed forward and grabbed her furiously – shoving her roughly against the nearby wall.

"A note? All we've been through together, everything we've meant to each other and you were going to say goodbye to me in a bloody **note**!" he yelled, his shaking rattling her swords against the wall where they were pinned against her back.

"It's not goodbye, Alistair… not forever. I just need to go for a little while, and I need for you to let me… _please_!" her own voice broke then, tears starting to streak down her face, "I'll send you missives every day, and I won't stay gone longer than a month or two – you have my word. I just… I can't think here, I can't **breathe**, and I need to figure out some way to fix this because I can't take it any more."

"Fine, then go." Alistair said, his voice empty as he backed away from her and turned to head back to the main chamber of the suite.

"I love you, I really do…" Elissa started, stopping at the look in his eyes when he turned back.

"You say that, but you're still going to go… aren't you?" he asked, nodding and smiling sadly when her face told him everything he needed to know. "That's what I thought… Good luck, Elissa. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for."

The sound of the door closing behind him was heartbreaking, and Elissa had to fight against the natural urge to go charging in after him to try and make it right with the false hope of another night spent lying there unable to say or do anything that would fix the damage they had done.

"I hope so too." Elissa whispered, shouldering her pack again and heading out the door.


	52. Chapter 52: The Shadow Grows

_**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** Just a little more, I promise! :) Here's hoping you're enjoying the winding down!_

_Thanks to my readers, reviewers and followers and to my wondrous Lady Beta, **artemiskat**. _

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Fifty-Two: The Shadow Grows<strong>_

Elissa wrote every couple of days, just as she'd said she would – but as one month turned into two, and then two turned into three, Alistair began to give up hope that he would ever see her again. She'd returned from Par Vollen to find a missive from Oghren awaiting her at the docks, and so instead of coming back to Denerim she'd rerouted her journey there – picking up Swiftrunner from his well timed visit to his people at Soldier's Peak along the way.

Her letters were always entertaining and full of the lengthy tales of her adventures. Alistair would have simply been excited to read about them - though envious to have missed them, had it not been so obvious that she was avoiding the mention of anything personal in her telling of the tales. He was reading her latest volume – quite an accurate term for she was exceptionally wordy – when he returned to the Royal Suite that night, stumbling into the room in the half light of the nearly burnt out bedside candle and grumbling over the bite of apple he'd taken when he couldn't make out the words anymore as he flopped back onto the bed.

"I can save you the trouble of lighting a fresh candle and just tell you the rest, if you'd like." came a voice from behind him, followed by the breathy rumble of laughter when he jumped back up off the bed tossing the parchment and the apple in his surprise.

Elissa smiled up at him from her comfortable spot on their bed, lying back on her elbows with her feet crossed at the ankles. She'd taken off her armor and put on one of her nightgowns, the thin green silk clinging to her skin. Aside from a couple of new tattoos, she looked exactly the same as she had when she left months before. Were it not for the insistent call of her blood to his own, he would have believed he was dreaming.

"You're here…" Alistair said, sitting down on the side of the bed – uncertain how to proceed.

"I told you I'd come back." Elissa replied, tilting her head and sending her hair drifting down over her shoulder.

"You told me a lot of things." he replied, swallowing hard when she pulled herself up and one of the straps of her nightgown fell off her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Alistair. I know I've been gone a long time… but, I'm back now… for good, if you want me to be." She waited patiently for him to invite any contact between them, knowing he had every right to be hesitant and not wanting to pressure him.

"Of _course_ I want you to be!" Alistair said, reaching out for her then and pulling her toward him. "I was never the one who wanted you to leave."

"I know." Elissa answered, returning his kiss just as passionately – pulling away only to work at the buttons that fastened his clothing. "But I thank you for letting me go."

They spent the rest of the night healing old wounds – with words and without them – sending an exceptionally flustered Eamon running out of the room when he walked in to find them using the desk in a way it was _not_ intended and collapsing in a fit of laughter then sleep soon after.

* * *

><p>The next several weeks were absolute bliss. Alistair was so thrilled to have Elissa back, wearing his ring and sharing his bed in more than just a sleeping capacity, that he didn't notice the changes within her until it was almost too late.<p>

"Elissa, Eamon wants to know where you've been all morning." Alistair called out, bumping noisily into the sparring room where she'd been headed when he left her after breakfast. "What excuse shall I give him this time?"

She lay collapsed on the floor in the middle of the room, a pool of something thick and black on the ground in front of her – a long string dripping from her mouth as she vomited more of it up. Alistair rushed forward, stopping when she turned to look at him – the black tendrils of taint running up the pale skin of her neck.

"S-stay back…" Elissa panted, clutching at her abdomen as another violent spasm wracked her body.

"Elissa… that's tainted blood, you should **not** be vomiting that up…" he insisted, starting to creep toward her again.

"You don't think I know that!" she screamed, rolling over onto her back and crying out. "S-something is wrong… very wrong… I keep having these sensations, these _desires_... I tried to fight, but I can't... go, **go** and get Zevran. T-tell him to bring something that will knock me out."

"What? Elissa you need to see a healer…" Alistair replied, shaking off her suggestion as though she'd lost her mind.

"**Go now**! I can't control it much longer and I'll hurt you if you don't go…" Elissa pleaded, her eyes both terrified and terrifying as she looked at him – fighting to control whatever was happening inside her. She screamed out in pain again, and Alistair took off running to track down the assassin.

* * *

><p>They kept her sedated for several days, long enough for Swiftrunner to travel to The Peak and return with Avernus, the only mage Alistair trusted to understand what might be happening to her. Alistair allowed him unlimited access to Elissa, under threat of a slow tortuous death should he do anything beyond what was required to offer any help or at least an explanation of what was going on.<p>

When he surfaced a few hours later, it was with an explanation that no one wanted to hear. Whatever had pulsed out of the Archdemon with its death, had activated more of the concoction within Elissa's blood – unlocking new abilities, but also advancing the progress of the taint inside her body far beyond what anyone so young in the Warden ranks should be capable of carrying.

The mage developed a potion that would help to combat the acceleration, and left instructions on how to make more should they need it – anxious to return to The Peak where he could access his full lab and continue to work on a more permanent solution to their dilemma.

Alistair sent him back with Swiftrunner, heading in to speak with Elissa and offer what encouragement he could manage.

"Well, on the plus side, you still look gorgeous." Alistair quipped, smiling at her as he came to sit at her side.

"It's not funny, Alistair." Elissa muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at him. "I nearly killed you."

"No you didn't." he replied, shaking his head and reaching out to take her hand.

"But I wanted to… kill you, fuck you, maybe both if you'd stayed long enough…" she explained, looking as though she wanted to cry. "It was all I could feel… it burned, and I tried to ignore it but I could feel it scrabbling there in the back of my mind, trying to take over. Waiting for me to get too tired to fight it off."

"You should have said something." Alistair said, his voice mildly chastising. "Avernus said some of his… experimentees… had experienced something similar and that it took some time to build. You've known about this for a while - it would be impossible not to."

"I thought I could control it… and I didn't want you to worry…" Elissa explained, leaning over to lie against his lap and enjoying the feel of his fingers in her hair. "How are we going to manage this now, Alistair? How can you have a monster for a Queen?"

"We will figure it out, Elissa. I promise… we will make it through this, the same way we've made it through everything else." he assured her, hoping that he was right this time.


	53. Chapter 53: Burying the Past

_**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N: **Down to the last two! :)_

_Thanks to all my readers, followers and reviewers! And, of course, to my wonderful Lady Beta **artemiskat**._

_Happy Reading!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Fifty-Three: Burying the Dead<strong>_

Elissa had become progressively unpredictable in the weeks that passed following the revelation of her condition. Some days she was sullen and spent most of her time shut away in the Royal Suite alone. Some days she spent drinking and carousing with Zevran or Swiftrunner or both and drawing disapproving frowns from Eamon which she responded to with gestures and phrases Alistair had never seen come out of her before. Some days she spent hours on end furiously attacking the training dummies in the sparring ring or picking fights with anyone she could manage. At the end of the day she was still Elissa, still the woman he loved, but Alistair found himself shocked by how quickly she could flip from one facet of herself to another.

She'd put off dealing with Highever and Amaranthine for as long as possible, but eventually the First Warden sent a letter insisting that she make her presence felt at the new Warden base else he would make a trip out to escort her there personally. As neither Alistair nor Elissa liked the idea of that, particularly in light of the changes brewing within her, they promptly scheduled a trip to Vigil's Keep.

"I can reschedule…" Alistair started again, watching her pack the rest of her things and trying not to visibly pout.

"**No** you can't. Eamon has already rescheduled this three times, Alistair." Elissa chuckled, smirking at him. "The people in the Bannorn are only going to wait so long, and your uncle hates me enough as it is."

"I don't understand why this can't wait a couple more weeks." he whined, flopping back on the bed and looking up at her. "If it's waited this long, surely it isn't all _that_ important to begin with."

"**You** made me Warden-Commander, Your Majesty," she laughed, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. "Doesn't seem like such a good idea now, does it?"

"It most decidedly does not." Alistair assured her, joining in her laughter and pulling himself back upright, scooting to the edge of the bed to pull her into his lap. "What did he say those reports were again?"

"Something about odd bands of roving darkspawn that weren't behaving correctly." Elissa explained, smiling when his hands found her backside and pulled her closer against him. "He didn't give me much more information to go on. Hopefully the Orlesians will have more details once I get there. They've been scouting the area for months, they certainly ought to have something useful to tell me."

"When are you leaving?" he asked, working at the buckles on the side of her armor as he kissed down her neck.

"I'm _supposed_ to be meeting a potential recruit in the courtyard fifteen minutes from now, one of your knights I believe." she replied, sighing when her breastplate popped free and he pulled it aside, dropping it to the ground and reaching up to cup her through the thin material of her chemise.

"Well, Commander… do you mind being a bit late?" Alistair said, continuing to kiss her anxiously.

"Anything to please my King." Elissa laughed, squealing when he flipped her over and pressed her into the bed with a low growl.

* * *

><p>They had only been on the road for a couple of hours and Elissa was already tired of Mhairi. The woman was never quiet and asked a <em>lot<em> of questions – most of which were things that Elissa had no intention of answering being that they had to do with her personal life which she rarely discussed with her few close friends, much less a total stranger. Though she'd never thought it possible, she was almost relieved when they finally reached the exterior grounds of Highever.

"Stable the horses, if you will." Elissa said, dismounting and tossing her reins over into the eager knight's hands, "I need to find my brother and get this dismal business behind me. If things go according to plan, we will be back on the road and in Amaranthine just before nightfall."

"We – we aren't staying the night?" Mhairi stuttered, looking sheepishly at the ground in response to Elissa's glare.

"Certainly not if I can help it." Elissa replied, pulling loose her gloves and stowing them in her pack as she headed off in search of her brother.

She didn't have to look very hard; he was waiting for her in the back corner of the rear courtyard just where she'd thought he'd be. The area had once been home to a great dais, a place that Elissa herself once stood for the announcement ceremony on her sixteenth birthday. It was gone now, just like everything else good that had once lived within these walls – replaced by a long row of headstones and one freshly dug grave.

"I spend a few hours down in the sparring ring poking holes in the training dummies and they question _my_ sanity… but you stand in your courtyard staring at graves for Maker only knows how long and that's perfectly sane." Elissa muttered, smirking at her brother as he turned to smile at her.

"We both know you've always been the crazy one," Fergus laughed, wrapping his little sister up in a proper hug, "and I haven't been down here long. I was just finishing up the last work on your… _request._"

"Thank you for doing this for me, Fergus." Elissa said, linking their hands together and squeezing his fingers as she turned her eyes to the grave at which he was staring. "I know you hate the idea."

"Are you absolutely _sure_ this is necessary? I mean… you're **going** to be Queen of Ferelden, Elissa – it will be fairly apparent at that point that you _aren't_ dead." Fergus snipped, rubbing at his forehead and watching as Elissa knelt down to inspect the headstone.

"A great deal of people believe, and will continue to believe that Elissa Cousland died in Highever along with the rest of her family – save you," Elissa explained, running her fingers across the marble, "I am perfectly content to let them believe that. Besides, believe it or not, it takes quite a few targets off my back – and I have enough that come along with Warden-Commander and Queen to keep my nights sleepless from here to forever."

"Speaking of sleepless nights… you _are_ staying here tonight night, aren't you?" Fergus asked, watching her pinch the bridge of her nose as she stood and knowing he had his answer.

"Absolutely not." Elissa snorted, shaking her head, "We've spoken about this many times, Fergus. I can barely even stand being here. I only came to make sure that you did as I asked and with the vain hope that you'd finally leave me be about it if I did finally make an appearance."

"Do you think this is easy for me, Elissa? I lost as much here as you did – even more!" Fergus yelled, the famous Cousland temper flaring up with his frustration. "But I'm here, cleaning it all up, living with the nightmare every day."

"I never asked you to do that, Fergus! You took this burden on yourself!" Elissa snapped back, glaring at him as her own temper flared, "As far as I'm concerned you should raze the whole thing to the ground! Burn it all! There is nothing left here to salvage!"

"How can you say that?" Fergus retorted, reaching over to grab her arm and tug her closer to him. "You'd have me burn our childhood, burn Rory, Oriana, Oren, burn Mother and Father?"

"Mother and Father? _Rory_?" Elissa laughed, bitter and hard – yanking her arm free from her brother's grasp. "Tell me, brother, did you even find their bodies? Was **Howe** kind enough to leave them all lined up with pretty bows waiting for a proper burial?"

"You know he didn't… but that doesn't change the fact that they're here, somewhere, and we should do what we can to rebuild our home and honor their memory." Fergus replied, his voice shaking slightly at the thought of what he didn't find.

"That's the problem Fergus, they're **here**… somewhere… **everywhere** I look…" Elissa croaked, tears starting to flow now as she remembered, "It isn't the same for you! You weren't here to see it. **I was**! And now it's everywhere… I can hear the screams, smell the burning… see the blood… even now and it's been years, **years** since it all happened!" Fergus was crying now too, trying to reach out for her though she fought against his embrace. "I came here to bury my past Fergus – here and in Amaranthine. Please, if you care for me at all, just _let_ me do it. I am begging you! It is the **only** way that I can move forward from here and try to have any kind of normal life."

Fergus wanted to argue, to come up with words of comfort or reassurance – but he could find none within him. Elissa was right; he could never understand what she'd seen and all that she'd gone through since they'd said their goodbyes in his room that night so long ago. The best thing he could do for her was try to support her as she navigated the treacherous waters of her past and put her ghosts to rest as best as was possible. That, and hope that Alistair could reach her where he could not.

* * *

><p>When Mhairi finally found the Warden-Commander and her brother, they were tossing back a couple of mugs of ale in the kitchen and sharing a plate of cheese and dried meats.<p>

"You have _got_ to stop telling Alistair stories!" Elissa warned, shaking her finger at him where he continued to laugh riotously across the table, "I mean it, Fergus! No more! I'll start screening your correspondence if I have to!"

"C-commander." Mhairi said tentatively, she was disobeying a direct order in coming to seek the temperamental Queen out – but she needed to keep them on schedule if they had any hope of reaching Amaranthine before nightfall as she'd said was the plan when they arrived in Highever, "P-pardon me for interrupting, but… I wondered if the plan was still to make the journey to Vigil's Keep tonight, or if you had decided to stay the night in Highever."

"No, we're leaving tonight…" Elissa sighed, rolling her eyes when she watched her brother look appreciatively at the pretty knight. "Go ahead and prepare the horses. I'll be out momentarily."

"Yes ma'am." Mhairi replied, bowing and quickly leaving the room.

"Well she's pretty for a knight, isn't she?" Fergus said, gnawing on another piece of cheese and watching Elissa stand and toss back the last of her ale.

"That appears to be _all_ she's got going for her so far as I can tell." Elissa snorted, putting the mug back down on the table and glaring at the woman's back as she disappeared down the hall. "She never shuts up and has an unhealthy obsession with the King."

"With Alistair?" Fergus laughed, spitting the mouthful of ale he had just taken out at the comic look on Elissa's face. "I can't believe she was foolish enough to tell _you _about it! Does he know?"

"Oh, I suspect he does now… made a right spectacle of things when he delivered me into her company at the gate." Elissa chuckled herself, remembering the look on Alistair's face under the pretty knight's attentions. "You know Alistair. He muttered something unintelligible, turned about sixteen shades of red, and kissed my eyeball in his hurry to get out of the room as quickly as possible."

The two lost it then, Elissa having to lean over the table for support when they truly gave themselves over to the laughter. Once the moment had passed, Fergus stood with her – hesitant to say goodbye, but knowing he had to because she was never going to stay.

"Don't be a stranger, sister…" Fergus said, hugging her tight and pressing a kiss against her hair. "You don't have to come in, we can meet at the stables if you like, or the docks, anywhere you want – just, don't disappear. I think a year apart is good enough."


	54. Chapter 54: The Prodigal Son Returns

_**Disclaimer**: Bioware owns all, except what I most humbly create. While, at times, I will take verbatim from the game, I mostly use the events of the Dragon Age games, expansions and universe as a loose structure around which to construct my re-imagined tale. If you are looking for a strict canon piece, I have no desire to offend, and so I warn you upfront! _

_When reading this tale, I hope you can easily imagine it being told by the very best of storytellers in Varric (from DA:2). In my version of events, Varric meets "The Hero" (my Elissa Cousland) in Kirkwall during the time period of DA:2. I mention this only so that readers can understand his connection along the way, and so I don't have to mention and rehash it again and again as I make my way through the tale. _

_**A/N:** And here we are! The end of Book Two! Thank you to all those who came along for the wild ride!_

_I'll have the first chapter of the new book **(Poison and Wine)** up tonight!_

_Thanks again to all my readers, followers and reviewers - and to my wonderous Lady Beta, **artemiskat**!_

_-Frayed One_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Fifty-Four: The Prodigal Son Returns<strong>_

Nathaniel Howe woke up in a Chantry bed some time after the Siege of Denerim not _too_ much worse for wear. He told me he'd had a vague recollection of taking on an ogre and then flying through the air – it was all black after that, but he showed me the scar once – so I can verify he was quite lucky to have survived. I'm fairly certain **he** wouldn't have believed it lucky at the time.

While he'd drifted unconscious through the Fade, the Warden had been proclaimed Hero of Ferelden, the new King had gone through his coronation, and the Arling of Amaranthine – his former home – had been given over to the Wardens for re-purposing following the complete negation of anything good the name Howe had contributed to the vast landscape of Thedas in return for his father's "traitorous misdeeds".

The Warden-Commander, Queen, or _whatever_ it was she was calling herself these days – was nigh untouchable as far as he could gather. She never traveled without several of her companions and was incredibly hard to track either way. It became clear to Nathaniel that he would never be able to complete his father's task here within the confines of the capital city, and so he started to monitor communications and rumors as best he could – finally getting word that she was leaving to make a trip to none other than Vigil's Keep within a week's time.

Nathaniel's temper flared as he thought about her wiping all memory of his life there from existence just as she had his father and the whole of his family's _good_ history. He'd spent a great deal of his recovery wondering if his father had been right as he listened to tale after tale about the wondrous deeds of the Hero of Ferelden. But, no matter how _good_ she might be to some – the fact remained that she had gone above and beyond to intentionally wipe the name Howe from the face of Thedas, and – even _if _he put his father's wishes aside – Nathaniel's sense of duty and honor would_ never_ allow such an offense to be tolerated.

He knew this was to be a one-way trip for him. Certainly, some of the stories about The Warden _may_ have been exaggerated, but the woman had killed the Archdemon and lived – and **that** he knew to be an irrefutable truth. He would do as his father asked. He would take her life and reclaim the family honor in doing so – but he held little hope that he would not offer his own life up in the process.

As the truth of this settled into him, Nathaniel began to make his peace with leaving the world. His siblings were beyond his reach, having – if the rumors were true – been killed during the turmoil over the past couple of years. Fergus Cousland had turned up, nursing a wound he suffered somewhere in the Korcari Wilds, but Nathaniel held no illusions that he would wish to lay eyes on him again – though the two had once been more brothers than friends.

That left only one thing for him to do to make his peace… and so he set himself up with the proper supplies and a horse with which to make the journey to the newly rebuilt Highever Castle.

* * *

><p>Nathaniel waited until nightfall to attempt to gain entry into the castle, knowing it would be much easier to avoid the notice of the guards under cover of darkness. It was frighteningly simple to get past the guard and up onto the ramparts of the castle – and he briefly considered the idea of speaking with Fergus despite his reservations to the contrary, if only to warn him that he should probably put a bit more effort in protective guard being the last living Cousland in all of Ferelden.<p>

It didn't take long to find what he was looking for, the row of marble stones picking up the moonlight and taking on an eerie glow in the darkness of the courtyard. Seeing where Fergus had placed them, Nathaniel wondered if it had still been an open pit of bodies when Fergus had found it – or if he simply placed the headstones where he believed the bodies to be as a memorial rather than an actual grave-site.

He didn't know, and as Nathaniel dropped silently down from the ramparts and made his way over to the row of stones, he realized it didn't matter. He would add it to a long list of questions he wanted to ask but knew would never be answered.

He passed his eyes across stone after stone, sadly recognizing the names of those who had fallen – and stopping, when he reached the one he'd come in search of. He knelt down – reaching out his fingers to touch against the cold marble.

"So now I know…" he whispered to no one, tracing each of the letters of her name in turn. "Lady Elissa Cousland, beloved daughter, sister and friend, Heart of Highever." He laughed, shaking his head. "That's laying it on a bit thick even for your brother… it's a shame you'll never see it. I'd love to see the look on your face."

He smiled sadly, a bit of him at peace now that he finally knew the truth. It freed him, knowing that there was nothing left to hold him here – to push him to seek redemption instead of revenge.

As he rose, he pressed a kiss to his fingers and touched the stone one last time.

"It was only ever you, Elissa." Nathaniel promised, turning his back on Highever, on the girl he had loved, and on the man he had once been – for the last time. "It always will be."


	55. Addendum

**_Addendum:_**

I have begun the editing process on this book, so please forgive the clutter as I go through to break down and approve the existing chapters while adding new material.

Edits to chapter one have been posted. (2/6/2013)

Thank you for your patience!

-Frayed One


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